Storms Of Change

Storms of Change

Amidst war abroad and upheaval at home, Reese Conlon and Tory King face their gravest challenge to their life together.

In the continuing saga of the Provincetown Tales, Reese Conlon’s obligations to family and country are put to the test as war engulfs the Middle East, while her partner Tory King must come to terms with the true price of love. While friends and family struggle with the fears and uncertainties of a world in strife, the small seaside town becomes home to newly arrived art gallery owner, Ricarda Grechi, a woman whose underworld family connections make danger her constant companion. Life doesn’t get any safer when State Police Detective Carter Wayne takes a sudden interest in Rica, but it does get more complicated. When love, duty, honor, and family are in conflict…four women and those who love them struggle to survive the unforgiving storms of change.

Chapter One

March 2003

Boston, Massachusetts

“I hope you’re not leaving the party yet,” Lorenzo Brassi murmured, his eyes glittering dangerously as he gripped Ricarda Pareto’s arm far harder than necessary. With a thin smile that from a distance might have been mistaken as friendly, he pulled her into one of the hallways leading off the grand central foyer in her father’s Brookline mansion.

“Let me go, Enzo.” Rica kept her voice low and her expression carefully blank, refusing to let him see the pain caused by his fingers digging into the soft flesh above her elbow. She needed to tilt her head only the slightest bit to look into his flat, dark eyes, secretly pleased as she always was to remind him by this gesture that he was only a few inches taller than her own five-eight. Among the many men in her family, her cousin was one of the shortest. The fact that her height bothered him made up for her irritation when people thought them siblings on first meeting because of their similar black hair and eyes and sculpted Sicilian features. “I have an early appointment tomorrow for the closing on the new house.”

“Ah, yes. Your little hideaway.” He leaned close, his breath redolent of whiskey and cigars. “Do you really think you can get away so easily?”

“A twenty-five-minute plane ride is hardly an escape.” Rica knew he meant more than just her early departure from her father’s birthday party, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of explaining why she wanted to move to the small Cape Cod village. She was aware of guests passing through the foyer only yards away and did not want family business, or family tensions, put on display. She tried to step around him but he blocked her with his body. Her arm throbbed beneath his fingers.

“Don Pareto hasn’t opened the last of his gifts,” Enzo said. “It’s fitting that you remain by his side until the celebration is over.”

“My father and I don’t need you to mediate our relationship,” Rica said sharply, wrenching her arm from his grasp, not caring about the bruise that would result. When she heard footsteps in the hallway behind her and realized someone, probably one of the guards, was approaching, she smiled brightly and took advantage of the opportunity to walk quickly away. As she heard Enzo greet the newcomer, she hastened around another corner and slid open the heavy walnut doors to her father’s study. As she closed them behind her, she muttered vehemently, “Bastard.”

The study occupied the entire length of one wing and was furnished with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, heavy masculine leather sofas and chairs, and thick Oriental carpets on the dark wood floors. The only light at the moment came from a single Tiffany lamp that stood on an antique table in front of wide French windows. The view beyond was of the circular drive and fountain in front of the mansion. At just after midnight on Saturday night, with her father’s sixtieth birthday celebration in full swing, the fountain was illuminated with spotlights, with sheets of sparkling water cascading over carved marble statuary, and the drive was filled with Bentleys, Mercedeses, and the occasional Lamborghini. The muted lighting and the smell of rich leather and old books were a soothing respite to the noise of the well-wishers, sycophants, and enemies disguised as friends.

Rica leaned her head back against the door, her arms behind her, both hands still clasping the doorknob, and closed her eyes. How she hated these events, being forced to socialize with her father’s business associates, most of whom looked at her as if she were for sale…just another of her father’s objets d’art on display for their entertainment. Of course, they never allowed him to see their thinly veiled expressions of lust and greed. It was even more trying to behave civilly toward Enzo. She shivered, still feeling the steel of his fingers bite into her skin and the proprietary way his eyes moved over her body as if she were naked.

“Bastard,” Rica repeated.

“Forgive me,” someone said from the shadows at the opposite end of the room. “I apologize, Ms. Pareto, for intruding on your solitude.”

Rica flinched inwardly, but gave no outward sign of alarm. She had been carefully schooled from childhood to keep her emotions under check. She turned her head slowly, unsure whether her unexpected company was male or female. The outline of a slender figure in dark trousers and pale shirt did not immediately answer the question for her. She was certain, however, that she had never heard that voice before. She would have remembered the rich, silky tones that rolled like honey over her skin. “What are you doing in here?”

“One of your father’s…assistants…told me I could make a private call in here,” the woman lied effortlessly. She pocketed the wafer-thin listening device she had been about to attach to the rear surface of Alfonse Pareto’s computer console, where the electronic activity from the other equipment would help conceal it during a cursory sweep of the room for bugs. She stepped forward into the light and extended her hand. “Carter Wayne, Ms. Pareto.”

“I’m afraid you were misinformed,” Rica said coolly as she perfunctorily shook the surprisingly broad, smooth hand. “This is my father’s private study.”

“Then I must apologize again.” Carter cursed inwardly at the rotten timing. She’d been certain that all the partygoers would be in the ballroom while Don Pareto accepted their homage and their gifts.

Rica said nothing, hiding her suspicions as she studied the stranger. A lifetime of growing up in her father’s house had taught her that nothing was ever as it appeared on the surface, and oftentimes those closest to you could do the most harm. Up close it was evident that what she had taken for a slender build was actually a sleekly muscular body, judging by the slight pull of the dark charcoal trousers over taut thighs and the stretch of pale linen over arms and shoulders too prominent to be fashionably feminine. She did not see any evidence of a gun, and she was good at recognizing the telltale bulge of a concealed holster or the uneven weight of a revolver in a five-hundred-dollar purse. Taking in the thick chestnut hair that fell almost haphazardly to her collar and the calm, hazel eyes that gazed back at her, apparently unperturbed by her perusal, Rica was quite certain that she had never seen this woman before. This was not the kind of woman that her father’s friends brought to social events, which meant that she must be a business associate. And that was unfortunate, because she was very attractive. “Did you finish your call?”

“I did,” Carter lied again, indicating the cell phone cradled in the palm of her left hand. Actually she’d been about to call her contact to check the audio relay in the microphone when Rica had surprised her by coming into the room. The last time she’d seen the Pareto heiress, she’d been fending off the advances of yet another guest. It wasn’t hard to understand why, either. Rica elevated the little black dress that every beautiful woman seemed to have in her closet for evening affairs such as this far beyond the realm of haute couture. Thin black straps barely broke the elegant lines of her toned shoulders, the neckline slashed down between small, shapely breasts, and the rest of the black silk sheath clung to lithe curves like rain streaming down a windowpane. Small-boned but not delicate, her body beckoned the sweep of a palm and the brush of lips. Realizing that Rica was waiting for her to elaborate, Carter forced the image from her mind. “I was just on my way out when you came in. I take it you were trying to escape someone’s unwanted company, and now I’ve foisted mine upon you.”

“Hardly escaping,” Rica said, moving a few feet away to put distance between them. There was nothing threatening about the stranger…in fact, just the opposite. Her quiet, intense gaze and unusual directness were unexpectedly appealing. “Just looking for a few minutes of peace and quiet.” She regarded Carter thoughtfully. “What is it that you do for my father?”

Carter laughed. “What makes you think I do anything at all for him? I could be someone’s date.”

“Somehow, I don’t think so.” Rica smiled, although her eyes remained wary. “The men here tend to have women who look a little…softer…than you on their arms. And that was meant as a compliment, by the way.”

“Thank you. I’ll take it as such.” Carter was unable to decide if Alfonse Pareto’s daughter was flirting with her or not. Intelligence indicated she was a lesbian, but now was not the time to overplay her interest, not when she’d been found in slightly suspect circumstances. “You’re right, I’m here by invitation of mutual associates. I’m an attorney, but most of my dealings involve brokering imports for several large companies.”

Drugs, Rica thought, surprised by the quick surge of disappointment. Why should she care what Carter Wayne’s particular illegal activity might be? She was part of the world Rica inhabited by circumstances of birth, not choice, but a world she understood well. Rica walked to the door, pulled it open, and gestured to the hall. “You should return to the party.”

It was not a suggestion.

“Of course.” Carter stepped past her, careful that their bodies did not touch. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Pareto.”

Rica did not answer but watched until Carter had disappeared before following her down the hall. When she reached the foyer she turned in the opposite direction, away from the revelry. She ignored the faint racing of her pulse as she collected her coat and purse, nodded to the guard at the door, and left the celebration behind. Carter Wayne was undeniably attractive, but like almost everyone else in the house, she was not to be trusted.

Two hours later, Carter completed a circuitous route through the quiet Brookline streets and pulled her black Explorer into the parking lot of one of the few convenience stores in the neighborhood. She stopped next to a dark panel van and watched the rearview mirror for a full minute to see if any vehicles followed her into the lot. After checking out the few cars parked in the well-lit area toward the front of the building, she was satisfied that she had not been followed from Pareto’s. She got out and rapped on the side of the van.

The door immediately slid open and she climbed inside. Two men and one woman waited in the cramped quarters, surrounded by electronic surveillance equipment. The older of the men wore pressed chinos, a polo shirt with the Massachusetts State Police logo on the breast pocket, and a thin headset coiled around his neck.

“Since I’m not getting anything over the wire,” her partner, Kevin Shaughnessy, said, “I’m guessing you didn’t get it planted.”

“Ricarda Pareto walked in on me about two seconds too soon,” Carter said, squatting down so her head wouldn’t bump the ceiling. “That wasn’t the way we were supposed to meet.”

Marilyn Allen, a sharp-faced blonde wearing the regulation FBI navy suit and a perpetual frown, grunted in displeasure. “Jesus, it’s taken us six months to get you in there. All we need now is for you to blow your cover. Or worse, Vincent Rizzo’s.”

Carter bit back a sarcastic remark, refraining from pointing out that none of the regional FBI agents, including Allen and her partner Bill Toome, had the skill to work undercover, and they never would have gotten this far inside without her. Carter, like every other state and local law-enforcement agent, believed that federal agents were nothing but glorified accountants, good for gathering information but a liability in the field. But it was the age of detente when everyone at least paid lip service to working together, and she kept her opinions to herself.

Kevin, in his usual implacable manner, ignored the grumblings of Allen and Toome. “What about Rizzo? Is he holding up all right?”

“He’s wasn’t happy about bringing me right inside the family, but, considering his other choice is jail, he’s managing.” Carter rubbed the back of her neck, belatedly realizing that she was far more tense than she’d realized. Tonight had been the first time that Rizzo, a trusted, high-ranking Pareto captain and a very reluctant FBI informant, had actually tied himself to her in public. He had introduced her as a business associate, thereby guaranteeing her legitimacy in the eyes of the organized crime members and sealing his own demise if her cover was ever blown.

“That’s good, because he’s been acting a little nervous,” Allen said with obvious relief. “We want to get him wired before he panics. That will save us months of trying to infiltrate the organization one operative at a time.”

“If you put a wire on him, you’re signing his death warrant,” Carter said. “Sooner or later someone will pick up on it and you’ll find him in pieces in the bay.”

“As long as it’s later, that might save the taxpayers some money,” Toome, Allen’s fellow FBI agent, muttered.

“Let’s call it a night,” Kevin said quickly. “We’ll meet tomorrow morning with the whole team and go over what we’ve got.” He glanced at Carter. “I think the daughter will be the key to at least one big question…how Pareto’s hiding the money trail. She’s perfectly situated to move big bucks through those art galleries of hers. She’s got to know where it’s coming from.”

“And from what we’ve heard,” Allen said, not bothering to hide the disdain in her voice, “you should be just her type, Wayne.”

Carter stared at her. They hadn’t worked together all that long, but Allen had taken an obvious and immediate dislike to her and didn’t bother to hide it. Guess the FBI hasn’t heard the directive on detente.

“Maybe it’s not such a bad thing she saw you tonight,” Toome offered into the breach. “She might trust you more…you know, since only the upper-level players got invited.”

“I guess we’ll find out,” Carter said as she pushed the door open and stepped out into the dark. There was no point in telling them that the one thing she had not seen in Ricarda Pareto’s eyes had been trust. For an instant she’d thought she’d detected appreciation, perhaps even a little bit of interest, but that had quickly been eclipsed by suspicion. And oddly, something that had resembled disappointment. It wasn’t at all what she had expected from the woman who stood to inherit one of the largest organized crime machines on the East Coast.

As Carter drove toward her apartment in Cambridge, she contemplated the goal of the joint state police, DEA, and FBI task force that she had been part of for almost a year…to shut down one of the major drug portals on the Northeastern Seaboard. With the amount of cocaine and heroin being run through the Port of Boston, the Justice Department estimated that millions of dollars were being laundered and carefully siphoned into the operations of the Pareto family annually. Dozens of agents from almost as many branches of law enforcement were working on the project…tracking cargo ship and truck manifests, money trails, and street-level drug distribution patterns. Her assignment was much more up close and personal. She was going to have to seduce Ricarda Pareto, or at least convince the crime boss’s daughter that that was her intention. Having met Rica, Carter didn’t think that feigning attraction to her would be too hard a task. What might be difficult was remembering that it was all strictly an act.

Chapter Two

April 2003

Provincetown, Massachusetts

A chime sounded in the rear office of Beaux Arts where Rica sat alone with an espresso and croissant, announcing that someone had come into the gallery. Setting aside the pile of invoices she’d been checking against the stock that had yet to be displayed, she rose to greet the visitors. She’d been in her new house in the west end of town only ten days, and the gallery had been open for business for just a week, but she already felt more comfortable than she ever had in the exclusive establishment she’d run in SoHo for the last three years. She ran it, but it never felt like hers. Not really. She chose the art, developed the client list, courted the agents for the wealthiest buyers from coast to coast, but her name wasn’t on the deed. The business had been a gift from her father when she’d finished graduate school, and as she’d learned over the years, every gift came with a price. There had been the occasional piece that she would not have carried had her father not requested it of her. A favor to an old friend. She never recognized the artists, but she knew better than to ask her father for information. At first, she’d been taken aback at how quickly the vase or statue or painting would sell…almost as if the buyer had been waiting for it to appear on her shelf. As the pattern recurred, she’d stopped being surprised.

“Hello?” a female voice called from the front of the shop.

Rica shook her head impatiently as she pushed the unsettling thoughts away, reminding herself that this place was hers. She’d left the gallery in SoHo under the capable direction of the assistant manager, a daughter of a friend of her father’s. Rica hadn’t thought she’d like Angela Camara when Angie had first come to work for her, expecting another pampered offspring of another rich and powerful man, but she’d been pleasantly surprised. Angie knew the market and was easy to work with, and she had become more than an associate. She was Rica’s best friend, and Rica already missed her.

“Sorry,” Rica said to the two women who stood in the main gallery surveying the paintings that had arrived just the day before. They looked like locals in casual jeans, boat shoes, and Tshirts. The older woman, a blonde with a year-round tan and piercing blue eyes, had liberal doses of paint splattered on her clothes. “I’m still getting organized.”

The blonde turned from the canvas she’d been studying and smiled. “I don’t envy you. I have a gallery about half this size, and I know how time-consuming it is. You paint, too?”

Rica shook her head. “I wish I did, but my talent seems to be in selling them, not creating them. I’m Rica Grechi.”

“I’m Kate,” the blonde said. “My place is just down the street. K&J Gallery.”

“I know, I’ve been in it. I admire your work.”

Kate looked pleased and drew her companion forward. “This is Caroline Clark, a good friend and a wonderful artist. I have several of her paintings in my gallery.”

“Hello,” Rica said, taking the young woman’s hand. Blond like Kate, she appeared to be in her early twenties, judging by the bit of smooth abdomen revealed in the space between her short T-shirt and skintight hip huggers and the row of piercings along the curve of one ear.

“Hi,” Caroline said. “Great place.”

“Thanks. I take it you live here in town?”

Caroline nodded. “I’ll be here all summer, and then I have one more year of school in Manhattan.”

“Caroline just returned from studying in Paris,” Kate said proudly.

“Really?” Rica said with interest. She looked from Kate to Caroline. “Are you two…related? Does painting run in the family?”

“No,” Kate said, sliding her arm affectionately around Caroline’s shoulders and giving her a hug. “Although I certainly wouldn’t mind if she were mine.”

“Oh yeah,” Caroline said, grinning. “Like anyone would trade Reese for me.”

“Who said anything about trading? My daughter, Reese Conlon,” Kate said by way of explanation, “is a sheriff here in town and…”

“Completely… awesome,” Caroline finished.

Rica laughed. Ordinarily, she didn’t find the thought of anyone in law enforcement particularly appealing, but Caroline’s obvious crush was endearing. She couldn’t remember ever having had an innocent crush on a woman, even when she’d been young. By the time she’d been old enough to recognize her interest in women, she’d already lost her naive faith in love. “I’ll have to come down to the gallery and look at your works again.”

“Absolutely,” Kate said. “Actually, we stopped by because I wanted to let you know that there’s a meeting of the Provincetown Women’s Business Association tomorrow night. We’ll be talking about advertising, fund-raising events, that sort of thing. I thought since you’re new here you might not know about it.”

“Thanks,” Rica said, surprised by the absence of any overt competition from another gallery owner. That was certainly a refreshing change from what she was used to in New York. “I’ll be there. Where and when?”

“Seven at Town Hall.” Kate gave a little jump and looked down at the phone on her belt. “Oh, I’m sorry. I should get this.” With an apologetic shrug she stepped outside.

“So how was Paris?” Rica asked Caroline.

“It was amazing,” Caroline said, her eyes lighting up. “It’s so beautiful, and I learned so much.” She frowned. “I missed my girlfriend like crazy, though. That was the only thing I didn’t like about it.”

“Ah,” Rica said. “Is she an art student too?”

Caroline laughed. “Not hardly. She’s a cop here in Provincetown. She works with Reese.”

Mentally Rica shook her head. Perhaps getting out from under the watchful eye of law enforcement wasn’t going to be as easy as she’d thought. Thankfully, no one here knew her, and since she wasn’t using the family name, hopefully that would continue.

Kate stuck her head back in the door. “That was Reese. She’s got an emergency call and needs me to babysit.” She waved. “I’ll see you at the meeting, Rica.”

“I should get going, too,” Caroline said. “See you soon.”

Rica waved as both women hurried away. She turned in a slow circle, taking in the bi-level gallery that took up most of the ground floor of the building she’d purchased on Commercial Street in the east end…the plain white walls, the counter with a computer and credit card machine tucked into one corner, the pedestals displaying sculptures and hand-blown glassware, and the paintings spotlighted by recessed track lights. The gallery was every bit as fashionable as the one in New York, but it lacked the chic veneer that kept everyone at a safe distance. She had to be careful not to forget that as simple as life here appeared, accessibility would never be an option for her. The distance she maintained was a matter of survival, and went far deeper than the surface.

“Okay, champ,” Reese Conlon muttered, tugging cotton play pants decorated with a menagerie of brightly colored animals over the chubby legs of the wriggling, squealing child in her lap. “Almost there. Just hold on for a sec…”

Regina Conlon King laughed joyfully and smacked her mother in the face.

“Ow,” Reese exclaimed and then grinned as she saw the nine-month-old studying her seriously, as if trying to determine if what had transpired was a good or bad thing. “Nice left hook.”

Seemingly reassured, Regina went back to wiggling. Reese glanced over her shoulder as the door from the side deck adjoining the driveway opened. When she saw Kate, she sighed in relief and stood. “Help is on the way, Reggie. Hi, Mom.”

“Here, let me have her,” Kate said, holding out her arms. “I thought you worked the night shift. Aren’t you supposed to be off today?”

“I am. Well, I was,” Reese said, rubbing her face in the hope that she’d wake up a little bit more. “I was going to sleep until Tory went in to the clinic at two, but she got called about some kid who swallowed her tooth about an hour ago. Then Nelson phoned just now and wants to see me in the office right away.”

Kate bounced her granddaughter on her hip as she adroitly tucked in the baby’s T-shirt and closed the snaps on her pants without looking. In the process, she regarded her own daughter intently. She couldn’t be certain whether Reese was half undressed after ending her shift or partially dressed and ready to return to work, since she wore the dark green T-shirt that went under her protective vest along with her uniform pants, and could be headed in either direction. The pressed khaki uniform shirt was draped over the back of a nearby couch. One thing she was sure of was that Reese was tired. Her short black hair was wet from a recent shower, but she was pale and shadows darkened the lids beneath her vibrant deep blue eyes. Now that she looked closely, Kate realized that while still muscular, Reese was thinner than she’d ever seen her. Kate handed Reggie a plastic baby bottle of apple juice and hiked her hip onto a stool in front of the breakfast bar that divided the large living room from the kitchen/dining area. “Is there something bothering you?”

Reese pulled on her shirt. “No, everything is fine. Just a little tired.”

“Is Tory feeling all right?” Kate could think of very few things that would distress her daughter enough to make her lose sleep. Any problem that involved Reese’s partner or their child was at the top of the list. Tory had had a very difficult pregnancy and emergency cesarean section when Reggie was born, and despite having returned to work in recent months, she was still not totally recovered. And Kate knew that Reese worried.

“Working too hard, as always,” Reese muttered, buttoning her shirt. “But she says she’s better and handling the patient load okay.”

Kate laughed. “You believe her?”

Reese grinned. “She might be exaggerating a little bit, but she’s keeping as regular hours as she can, and she’s already got someone lined up for the summer. A woman from Providence who wants to downsize her practice. Apparently she’s thinking of relocating permanently.”

“Good,” Kate said. “The clinic is too busy during the summer for Tory to handle it all by herself.”

“I expect KT would help out if things got rough,” Reese commented, although she suspected that Tory’s ex-lover KT O’Bannon, a trauma surgeon who worked in Boston and commuted to Provincetown whenever she was free, would want to spend whatever time she had with her new lover, Pia Torres. Although KT had spent a few months the previous fall working with Tory in the clinic, it wasn’t KT’s natural environment. According to everything Tory had told her, and what she had observed herself, Reese knew that KT thrived on the adrenaline rush of life-and-death emergency surgery.

“The baby seems great.” Kate caught the juice bottle as Reggie launched it into the air.

“She is. I think she’s ready to walk.” Reese opened the hall closet and took down the lockbox where she kept her gun. “And she’s got an amazing vocabulary already.”

Kate smiled indulgently as she listened to the baby babble. There might be a few words in there, but she knew better than to disavow her daughter’s enthusiasm. “Is it the war that has you losing sleep?”

Reese grew very still for a moment, then removed her service weapon, checked to see the chamber was empty, slid in the clip, and settled it into the holster at her hip. She returned the box to the top shelf and pinned her badge to her shirt pocket. Then she turned and met her mother’s eyes, eyes that were the same shade as her own. Despite the fact that she had inherited her black hair from her father, she and her mother looked very much alike. And even though she had spent her adolescence and young adulthood with no contact with her mother, having been raised by her father to be a career Marine and having spent much of her service time under his command, her mother knew her far better than her father ever had. Or perhaps in fairness to him, her mother knew what mattered to her heart far more then General Conlon did, even now.

“I think about it.”

“It’s escalating, isn’t it?” Kate said quietly.

“Seems to be.” Reese turned her collar up and threaded a black tie around her neck. She fashioned a small tight knot and settled it against her collar with quick, precise movements. “I don’t think anyone who knows anything about this kind of engagement ever thought it would be over in a few weeks. The Middle East isn’t all that much different than Southeast Asia.”

“Have you talked to your father?”

“Not since he was here last fall to tell me what a great opportunity it would be for me if we went to war,” Reese said bitterly. She had asked her father to attend her and Tory’s wedding, but he’d refused. Even though he conveniently ignored that she was a lesbian in terms of the potential effect on her career, he would not recognize her relationship to Tory or their child. Selective denial of what mattered most in her life. Reese shook her head to dispel the anger. It was dangerous for her to go to work with her mind anything less than clear, and she promised Tory every day when they said goodbye that she would be careful.

“I love you,” Kate said gently.

Reese’s expression softened. “I know. Thanks.”

“Not necessary.” Kate nuzzled Reggie’s neck. “You keep bringing wonderful things into my life.”

“Same here.” Reese bent down and kissed Reggie’s cheek, then her mother’s. “Thanks for coming over on such short notice.”

“I’ll take her home with me,” Kate said, “so either you or Tory can pick her up, depending on which one of you finishes first.”

“Thanks.”

“Be careful,” Kate called as Reese went out the door. She waited a few more minutes, listening to the sound of Reese’s Blazer revving in the driveway and then disappearing down the highway. She hadn’t asked the question that she really wanted answered, which was what Reese would do if the war dragged on and her Marine unit was activated. She didn’t ask not because she believed Reese didn’t have an answer, but because she wasn’t certain she was ready to hear it.

Chapter Three

When Reese drove into the small parking lot behind the single-story, sprawling wood building that housed the sheriff’s department on Shank Painter Road, one squad car, a red Honda Civic, and Sheriff Nelson Parker’s GMC Jimmy were parked in a neat row. Otherwise it was empty. At one in the afternoon with still a few weeks to go before the tourist season got into full swing, there was unlikely to be much going on other than the daily fare of fender benders, minor thefts, drunk and disorderlies, and domestic disputes. They hadn’t yet signed on temporary seasonal help, and only a few officers were on duty each shift.

Reese parked next to Nelson’s GMC and let herself in to the main office area through the side door. Their dispatcher and secretary, Gladys, was ensconced behind the array of computers and radio equipment. The matronly, middle-aged woman in a neat cranberry sweater set and dark slacks glanced her way with a look of surprise.

“I thought you weren’t due back here until tomorrow.”

“The chief called.”

“Hmph.” Gladys looked over her shoulder at the closed door of Nelson’s office. “He’s been in there since I got back from lunch.”

Reese didn’t ask what was going on, because if Gladys knew, she would have told her. And her mild annoyance indicated that she didn’t know. Gladys had worked in the department for a lot of years and was an integral part of the team, so whatever the chief was doing behind closed doors had to be unusual. “You want to let him know I’m here?”

Gladys punched the intercom, waited a second, and then said, “Reese is here.”

Through the static, a deep male voice rumbled, “Send…in.”

Reese rapped on the door, then pushed it open and stepped into Nelson Parker’s office. The chief, in his fifties with a full head of dark hair laced with gray, a broad face ruddy from a lifetime in the wind and sun, and a waist starting to show the thickness of a few too many years at a desk, sat behind a plain wooden one now on the far side of the room. His eyes were intelligent and quick, and…at the moment…telegraphing a sense of wariness and caution. A visitor occupied one of the two folding metal chairs in front of Nelson’s desk, her body angled so that Reese could only see part of her face.

“Chief,” Reese said, walking forward to stand behind the empty seat. “You wanted to see me?”

“Take a seat, Reese,” Nelson said, tipping his head toward the chair.

Reese obeyed the order although she would have preferred to remain standing. She never liked to be in anything less than a superior position when facing an unknown situation. However, Nelson was in charge. As she sat, she got another quick glimpse of the woman. Brown and hazel, five or six years younger than Reese, dressed in civilian clothes…navy blue crewneck sweater, jeans faded nearly white, and scuffed brown boots. A dark brown leather jacket hung from the back of the wooden chair. Her face was honed down and edgy. Reese had seen her before.

“This is Massachusetts State Trooper Carter Wayne,” Nelson said. “Special investigator.”

“How’re you doing,” Reese said, extending her hand.

“Not bad,” Carter said as she returned Reese’s handshake. “Sorry to call you in.”

“No problem.” Reese regarded Carter thoughtfully, picturing her getting out of a black SUV, a briefcase in her hand. She’d been wearing the same leather jacket, dark trousers, and a dark shirt. “The sign on that office you opened on Bradford says you’re an attorney.”

Carter grinned. “You don’t miss much. I’ve only had the office there a month or so and haven’t actually done much business yet.” In fact, she hadn’t done any business, and probably never would. As soon as the investigative unit had learned that Rica had purchased a house in Provincetown, they’d worked out a cover story to make use of vacation property Carter already owned. Posing as an attorney in town would afford Carter a perfect opportunity to make contact with the subject. Carter had waited for Rica to get settled before putting in an appearance. “I really just got moved in this past weekend. Surprised you noticed.”

“It’s not a very big town.” Unlike many local cops, Reese wasn’t predisposed to disliking members of other law enforcement agencies. She had spent almost her entire life within the strict hierarchy of the military where the chain of command was absolute. She issued orders that she expected to be obeyed without question, and she followed orders from her superiors with the same volition. The system would not work any other way, and in moments of crisis when the difference between life and death was measured in seconds, the system had to work. Still, she wasn’t naive enough to think that the agendas of other agencies would necessarily benefit her community, so she waited for the state trooper to answer her unspoken questions. What else are you and why are you here?

“I am an attorney,” Carter said. “I got my degree at night. Took me four years. I thought when I finished I’d switch from law enforcement to practicing law, but”…she shrugged…“it hasn’t happened.”

“I take it you’re here about more than opening a law office.” Reese looked over at Nelson, whose expression was a mix of concern and annoyance. “Something going on around here we should know about?”

“I don’t know yet,” Carter said. “I thought I’d check in with you. As a courtesy.”

“What would have been a courtesy,” Nelson said gruffly, “is if someone had told us you were coming a few months ago, and why.”

He was right, and Carter had argued from the beginning that the local law enforcement people should be advised of her presence, but the FBI had vetoed the request. She had agreed in part with their objections, because the more people who knew who she was and what she was doing, the greater the likelihood that her cover would be compromised. On the other hand, Provincetown was geographically isolated, perched as it was on a strip of sand three miles wide on the very tip of Cape Cod. She had no immediate backup, and even though she was used to working under deep cover, it wouldn’t do the operation any good if she learned vital information only to be taken out because she had no one to call in an emergency. In the end, after much debate, her superiors and Special Agent Allen had compromised. She spread her hands and told them as much as she could. “I’m not sure anything is going on. I’m here following a thin lead that may go nowhere. But it’s best I not advertise what I’m doing. If anybody were to check, I am a duly licensed attorney. I wouldn’t be the first to set up a satellite office here, draw up a few contracts, and spend the rest of my time enjoying the scenery.”

“That works fine as a cover for anyone who’s not looking too closely.” Nelson slid open his desk drawer and fished around for his roll of Tums. He tore off the silver foil, tossed one in his mouth, and chewed it vigorously. “Now you want to tell us why you’re really here?”

“We think some of the pleasure boats coming through are carrying drugs. Probably picking them up out at sea and handing them off when they come ashore. One link in the chain, all the way up the coast from Miami.” It was the truth, but far from the whole truth. Carter had found that the best way to preserve her cover and her credibility was to tell the truth, but to only tell as much as she needed to. The subterfuge with fellow law enforcement officers bothered her, but her mission was primary. If the situations were reversed, she had no doubt they’d do the same.

Reese contemplated the information. On the surface it was feasible. Provincetown had a year-round population of only a few thousand, and major crime was very unusual. Nevertheless, their proximity to the Atlantic Ocean and the enormous number of wealthy vacationers and part-time residents made the possibility of illegal trafficking a worry. Four summers earlier, when she and Tory had just met, there had been a major confrontation with the crew of a vessel that had run aground while ferrying drugs. Nothing of that scale had happened since, but drug-related problems on the entire Cape were escalating.

“And how do you expect to identify the couriers?” Reese asked.

“I’m hoping they’ll come to me,” Carter said, a small smile softening the edges of her predatory expression for a fleeting second. “Some distributors prefer to have an agent broker their deals. It keeps them one step removed. That’s where I come in.”

“You didn’t set up those kinds of connections overnight,” Reese observed. There was more to this story than they were getting.

Carter was impressed, but not surprised. She knew who Reese Conlon was. Most state police officers did. Conlon had made a name for herself when she’d risked her life to save a fellow officer and got shot in the process. She’d solved some other high-profile crimes but had steadfastly refused any kind of promotion or transfer that would take her out of the small town. “I’m inside a few places. I’ve been working at it for a while.”

Reese looked at Nelson and caught his barely perceptible nod. They’d worked together long enough to almost read one another’s minds. “Any major takedowns, we need to be involved. If there’s a local distributor, we want the name. This is our town. It’s our job to keep it clean.”

“Agreed,” Carter said. She didn’t actually anticipate intercepting any of the drug shipments coming in on private yachts and sailboats because her team wasn’t interested in that level of distribution. They wanted a shot at Alfonse Pareto, and they were hoping his daughter would give it to them. But that was the vital piece of information she did not intend to share with Nelson Parker and Reese Conlon. “So, we’re agreed. If something comes up, I’ll clue you in.” She looked from Nelson to Reese. “I don’t want to come back to the station again. Which of you should I call?”

“Let’s make Conlon your official contact,” Nelson said. “She’ll keep me advised.”

“Done.” Carter stood. Conlon, she noted as the other officer stood, was just about her height. “Is there a back way out of here?”

“I’ll take her out through the rear holding area,” Reese said to Nelson.

“Okay, then head home.” Nelson watched them go, two wary allies, and unconsciously unwrapped another Tums.

Reese waited by the Blazer, watching Carter walk away down the sandy path at the rear of the parking lot toward the Grand Union with its large parking lot half a block up the street. She’d probably left her Explorer there and come around to the sheriff’s department on foot. No one would notice her coming and going. Her story was plausible, but Reese didn’t believe it. No one invested the kind of money and time and training it would take to put an experienced investigator undercover on the off chance that she might stumble on a few shipments of drugs coming into an out-of-the-way port. Reese believed there probably were drugs coming in through the harbor, and she intended to have a talk with the harbormaster about it. She also intended to step up the patrols along the wharf, especially at night. But mostly, she planned on watching Carter Wayne.

Reese checked the time. It was the middle of the afternoon, and she was supposed to be at home asleep. Now she was awake and unaccountably restless. She could go to the dojo and train for a while. That always settled her, helped her find her balance. There was only one thing in her life that centered her more.

Minutes later she pulled into the gravel parking lot in front of the East End Health Clinic. At least a dozen cars were parked in front of the low white building, and for a minute, she contemplated backing out and driving away. But she’d been fighting the feeling for weeks that she was running out of time, and all she needed was a minute.

The front door led directly into the waiting room, and it was crowded as it always was, no matter the time. Reese threaded her way between haphazardly placed chairs, the occasional child crawling on the floor, and aluminum walkers. Randy, the handsome blond receptionist, had a phone tucked between his shoulder and ear and was scowling at a computer screen as he typed. Reese took advantage of his attention being elsewhere and sidled around the counter toward the hallway that led back to her lover’s office.

When Randy called, “Don’t you dare go back there,” Reese laughed and kept going. Tory’s office was empty, as Reese expected, considering how many patients were in the waiting room. The examining rooms must be full. She went to the large walnut desk that was crowded with file folders, several cups of cold coffee, and a cluster of silver-framed photos on one corner. She smiled at the pictures of Reggie, from newborn right up until the past weekend when they’d taken her out on the ferry for the first time. She looked just like Tory, with red highlights in her golden brown hair and eyes that were blue or green depending on the color of the sky and the water. Reese found a pad and pen and was about to write a note when she heard a sound behind her. She straightened and turned.

Tory stood in the doorway in a white lab coat, blue jeans, and a yellow cotton shirt. She wore sneakers and a light plastic splint on her damaged right ankle. She had a file in one hand and a quizzical smile on her face.

“Sweetheart?” Tory said. “Aren’t you supposed to be home asleep?”

“That was my plan before Nelson called me in for an unscheduled meeting. Kate’s got the baby.”

Tory closed the door and dropped the file folder onto the middle of her desk. Then she leaned her hip against the edge. “But you’re done now?”

Reese nodded.

“What are you doing here?”

“I was just…” Reese realized that Tory was in the middle of an incredibly busy day and there was nothing she could tell her that would make any sense. Because all she had were vague feelings and uneasy premonitions, things that were completely beyond her realm of experience. All her life she had been taught to deal with the realities of the moment, to stay focused on the events that she could influence by her actions and reactions. Life was a series of choices, and the wrong ones could mean your life. She didn’t deal in what ifs, only in what was. Burdening Tory with worries she couldn’t even frame in words would be selfish. “I was just going to tell you that Reggie was with Kate.”

“You want me to pick her up later?” Tory asked, still confused.

Reese cupped her cheek and kissed her lightly on the lips. “Call me at home when you’re done. I’ll probably have picked her up already, but if not, we can figure something out then.” She hesitated, then kissed Tory again, slowly this time, memorizing her taste. “See you at home.” She was almost to the door before Tory called her name.

“Reese?”

Reese turned and looked back.

“Was there something else, sweetheart?”

“No,” Reese said softly. “Just wanted an excuse to say hi.”

“You never need an excuse. See you later.”

“Yeah. Absolutely.”

Chapter Four

Rica slowed her Lexus on the far west end of Bradford Street and turned right onto a narrow private road that twisted up to a wooded crest. She passed several houses partially secluded by trees and dunes before pulling into the driveway behind her new home. Carrying the groceries she’d picked up on the way, she navigated the flagstone walkway in the gathering dusk. There was no sound other than the distant cries of seagulls and the murmur of the waves to-ing and fro-ing over the sand and stones. Balancing the bags on her hip, she unlocked her door and reflected that while true privacy was impossible to attain in a popular resort town where space was limited, she had come close. She’d managed to find a place where, when she sat on the deck outside her living room and looked out over the salt marshes to the bay beyond, she could almost believe she was alone. And that was exactly what she wanted.

She couldn’t walk away from her life, even had she wanted to, and it wasn’t a matter of how far away she went. Her father and his enterprises were a two-hour drive away, less than a half hour on one of the ten-passenger, two-engine planes that flew regularly from the tiny airport at Race Point. Still, she had managed to extract herself from the gallery in SoHo, and that was a start.

Leaning on the black and gold flecked granite counter in her shiny new kitchen, Rica watched another spectacular sunset through the window, aching with the beauty of it. She recognized the poignant sadness in her heart that echoed the deep blues and purples of the sky as loneliness, but accepted that as the cost of her freedom. Here at least, she was not guarded ever-so-politely by men with guns, not the inadvertent witness to events she did not want to be a part of, and not the object of speculative desire from men and women alike who viewed her as an attractive means to an end. She was not reminded by daily interaction with her father that he regarded her as his heir, whether she sought the position or not.

The phone rang, interrupting her prized solitude, and Rica gave a murmur of displeasure. She hadn’t made any acquaintances in town yet, so it had to be the other part of her life exerting its hold on her. For a second, she contemplated not answering, then shook her head and picked up the phone. She’d never known a problem to be solved by ignoring it.

“Hello?”

“Ricarda?” her father said in his deep rumbling baritone. “How is the new house?”

Rica imagined him in his study, a thick cigar held lightly between his long, powerful fingers, a contemplative expression on his hard, dark, handsome face as he watched the smoke swirl and dissipate in the air. “It’s fine, Papa. I can see the bay from almost every window. It’s beautiful.”

“I remember the first time you saw the ocean. You went running right in until the water was over your head. Your mama was screaming and I had to pull you out. You were laughing when I dragged you to the surface.”

A deep sigh came through the phone to her.

“You were fearless. Always fearless. Do you remember?”

“I remember, Papa.” She’d been two, if that, and the memory was fuzzy, but she remembered sunshine, and warm sand, and the shining blue water stretching forever. Her memories of her mother were less distinct than that of the ocean. She had fleeting images of swirling black hair, warm dark eyes, and gentle hands. It hadn’t been long thereafter when her mother had been killed in a car accident on a rainy night on her way home from their summer home in the Berkshires. “You were right, I’m part fish. It feels good to be near the water again.”

“There’s plenty of water in Boston.”

Rica said nothing. They’d had this discussion before. Her father did not understand why, if she wasn’t going to live in New York City and run the gallery, she didn’t come home. After all, Ricarda, once you marry, you will be living here anyhow. Why move twice? When she’d tried to explain to him yet again that she was not interested in marriage, he waved his hand dismissively, as he did with any problem not worthy of his time. We all think that way when we are young, cara mia, but you will change your mind soon enough.

“And the business?” Alfonse Pareto said after a moment of silence.

“Just getting going,” Rica said casually. “It won’t be like New York. Something smaller, less formal.”

“That may be, but it’s an interesting community, this new place of yours. Not so very far away, and there are many people of wealth and influence who pass through.” His voice took on a musing quality. “In many ways, the cloak of invisibility is a welcome aspect of your little town.”

Rica shivered, although the room was warm. “Nothing goes unnoticed here, Papa. Everyone knows everyone else.”

Pareto laughed. “People only see what they are allowed to see, Rica. That is true no matter where you live. Never trust what you see. There’s always another story.”

“I know.”

“I thought I would send Johnny T. over to help…”

“No!” Rica drew a breath and tried to quiet the surge of panic. “I don’t need a guard. I haven’t needed one since I was sixteen.”

“Not to guard you,” Pareto said, sounding wounded. “Just to…assist you. Whatever you might need, in the gallery or around the house.”

“I’m fine, Papa. Really. Thank you.”

“Of course, if that’s what you want.”

Rica could see him sitting forward in his chair, stubbing out his cigar, the meeting ended. She didn’t wait for him to dismiss her.

“I’m sorry, I have to go. Groceries. I just got home.”

“We’re having the Memorial Day party as usual. Just the family and a few friends. Plan to be here, Rica.”

“I will. Goodbye, Papa.”

Rica disconnected, smiling ruefully at her own earlier self-delusion. She loved her father, she was who she was, and a large part of her was shaped by the world she had grown up in. She couldn’t change the past or deny her heritage. The best she could hope to do was decide her future for herself.

Carter carried an ice-cold bottle of Dos Equis out to the small balcony that extended from her second-floor apartment above the law office. The building stood on a corner a block from the center of town, and if she angled her head just right, she got a pretty good view of the harbor. A few sailboats were moored offshore, swaying indolently on the quiet water as the sun and moon exchanged places. Fractured rays of sunlight slanted across the water, close to being swallowed by the glassy surface, and the indigo blue sky above was edging toward black. A brisk breeze caught her shirt and whipped it around her torso. She sipped her beer and thought about Rica. Or rather, exactly how she was going to get close to her. The don’s daughter wasn’t the only member of the organization under surveillance, but she was one of the closest people to him. No one was certain how deeply she might be involved in the day-to-day or even the long-range workings of the organization, but it was common knowledge that she was looked upon by Pareto and everyone else in his crime family as the heir. That alone made her a key figure in the investigation. The move to Provincetown had been a surprise and made the job of observing her all that much more difficult. Routine field surveillance was out of the question in a community so small and geographically restricted. Fortunately, if Rica bought Carter’s cover story, she would be in a unique position to gain access to Rica in a way that she might not have been able to previously.

All things considered, this unexpected turn of events might be advantageous. Carter smiled. Certainly she’d had less desirable assignments.

Her cell phone rang and she unclipped it from her belt. She recognized the readout, and her smile broadened. “Wayne.”

“What are you wearing?”

“Nothing. I’m lying on my bed, imagining you starting at my toes and licking…”

“Stop!”

Laughing, Carter drained the bottle of beer and set it on the wooden deck by her foot, picturing the voluptuous redhead on the other end with a pleasant stirring in the pit of her stomach. She hadn’t had sex in almost a month, and she was edgy because of it. When she was this involved in an investigation, she couldn’t spare the time to meet someone, even casually. That’s why it was nice to have a woman in her life who understood her priorities. Susan Price worked in the DA’s office, so she appreciated the unpredictability and demands of the job. And fortunately, she wasn’t interested in anything more serious than good friendship and excellent sex. “So when did you get back?”

“Just a few hours ago,” Susan said. “And before you ask, Aruba was gorgeous, and I highly recommend it. It’s everything they said…white sandy beaches, tall cool drinks, and the women…God, the women.”

“Did you get any sleep at all?”

“Carter, sweetheart, you don’t go on vacation to sleep.”

“Well, you obviously enjoyed your vacation more than I did.”

“Miss me?” Susan asked with a teasing lilt.

“More and more every day.”

“Once in a while it’s fun to explore new territory, but there’s something to be said for the familiarity of home.”

“Are you trying to say I’m predictable and boring?” Carter asked, feigning indignation.

“Mmm, no. I’m trying to say you still make me come better than almost any woman I’ve ever met.”

Carter sucked in a breath, the image of Susan’s fingers digging into her shoulders as she cried out in pleasure making her instantly aroused. “Jesus. It isn’t fair to tease me after you’ve left me high and dry for weeks.”

“Aww, poor baby. No one else around to ease your suffering?”

“No one and no time.”

“Where are you? Maybe I can remedy this regretful situation.”

“Out of town.”

Susan murmured sympathetically, “Working?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Long-time thing?”

“Could be,” Carter said, turning to rest her back against the railing. She contemplated another beer, but the evening was so beautiful and her apartment so barren that she didn’t want to go back inside, even for another drink.

“There’s phone sex,” Susan suggested.

Carter laughed. “Make sure you have your cell phone at all times. I might take you up on it.”

“Any time, sweetheart.” Susan sighed. “I should go. I need to unpack and think about getting my head into working again.”

“Okay. If I can, I’ll try to drop in one of these nights.”

“Do that. I’ve missed you. And Carter?”

“Hmm?”

“Be careful, wherever you are.”

“Always. Night, Susie.”

When Susan hung up, Carter felt an instant pang of loneliness. She wasn’t entirely certain why, because she and Susan had never been in love. She stepped inside the sparsely furnished living room and closed the sliding glass doors behind her. She went to the refrigerator in the adjoining kitchen, pulled out another beer, and swiveled off the top. While she tilted the bottle to her lips and let the sharp, cold liquid stream down her throat, she contemplated her next meeting with Ricarda. She was looking forward to it, and in all honesty, she had to admit that the anticipation wasn’t completely due to professional reasons. Rica was a beautiful, intelligent, intriguing woman. It had been a long time since she’d met a woman with just the right combination of brains and charisma to interest her. And, unfortunately, Rica had it all.

When the phone rang, Reese lunged for it, thinking it was Tory. She flipped it open with one hand while simultaneously scooping Reggie off the floor and under her arm with the other.

“Thought I’d better catch you before you rumbled right outside and off the deck,” Reese muttered to Reggie as she crossed the living room to close the sliding glass doors. “Hello? Tor?”

Reggie tugged at the buttons on Reese’s shirt, valiantly trying to liberate them.

“Hello?” Reese repeated.

She stiffened at the first sound of the familiar voice. Unconsciously she tightened her arm around Reggie’s middle, making the child squirm and protest. Instantly, she relaxed her grip and settled Reggie more securely against her chest. “Yes, sir. Go ahead, please.”

She listened for a full five minutes and asked no questions. Instead of closing the doors to the deck, she walked outside, the phone that linked her to one world against her ear, and her daughter, who anchored her in another, against her heart. Reggie, as if she understood the gravity of the moment, rested her head against Reese’s shoulder and went to sleep.

“I understand. Yes, sir.” Reese took a deep breath and did something she had never done before in her life. She asked a favor of the general, because he was her father. “If I could have twenty-four hours, sir.”

The silence was the longest of her life.

“Thank you, General.”

She closed the phone and slid it into her pants pocket, then folded both arms around Reggie, whose small body was warm and soft. She stood at the rail and watched moonlight play over the surface of the water, her cheek resting against the top of Reggie’s head. Everywhere she looked was beauty. Her heart was full of precious wonder at the child in her arms and the woman who had brought love and meaning into her life. Tory, Reggie, and the life they shared among family and friends were the miracles she would carry with her wherever she went. They were her greatest strength, and she knew because of them, she could do what she needed to do.

The wind blew in, crisp and sharp off the water, and ruffled the baby’s hair. Reese cupped Reggie’s face in the palm of her hand to shield her from the night air and went inside. She slid the phone from her pocket and opened it one-handed. The first number on the speed dial was Tory at the clinic. She pressed two.

After a moment, she said, “Mom, I need a favor.”

Chapter Five

Tory closed the door behind her and scanned the living room, trying to sense what was different. It was just past nine p.m., but the house seemed very still. The only light came from a single lamp turned down low on the far side of the room. The glass doors leading to the deck were open, and the smell of the sea filled the air.

“Reese?”

Tory dropped her keys and wallet on a small table by the door and started toward the stairs that led to the second floor and their bedroom. Just as she did, Reese came in from the deck.

“Hey,” Tory said. “It’s so quiet, I thought you’d all gone to bed.”

Reese put her arms around Tory and pulled her near, burying her face in Tory’s thick, silky hair. “Not without you.” She kissed Tory’s neck. “What would be the point?”

“God, you feel good,” Tory murmured. She curved her arms around Reese’s shoulders and relaxed against her body. Her planned six-hour shift had turned into nine, and she was dead tired. Her leg ached, as it often did after she’d been standing for an extended period, and her back felt as if she’d been lifting fifty-pound boxes all day. What she wanted was to soak in a hot tub, curl up next to Reese, and fall asleep. “Is the baby asleep already?”

“She’s with Kate and Jean.”

“Really?” Tory laughed. “They don’t get enough of her, babysitting almost every day?”

“I asked them to keep her.” Reese moved her hand to the back of Tory’s neck and worked her fingers into the tight muscles on either side of her spine. “I’ve got an open bottle of Merlot out on the deck and some nibbles if you’re hungry.”

“You do, huh?” Tory ran her hands up and down Reese’s back. “One lounge chair or two?”

“One.” Slipping her fingers higher into Tory’s hair, Reese massaged her scalp. “And a blanket.”

“Oh, it’s that way, is it?” Leaning back, Tory kissed the tip of Reese’s chin. “You do realize we both have to work in the morning?”

“I won’t keep you up too late.”

“Don’t make promises you might not be able to keep.” Tory kissed Reese, savoring the way Reese smelled…warm sunshine, salty ocean spray, and Reggie…all the things Tory loved. Reese’s body was firm beneath her hands, a sculpted landscape of strength and certainty. As she took the kiss deeper, skimming her tongue into the smooth, warm recesses of Reese’s mouth, she heard Reese moan softly and felt her tremble. “Are you all right, sweetheart?”

“Perfect,” Reese whispered. “You’re here.”

“Where else would I be?” Tory placed her hand over Reese’s heart. It beat wildly beneath her fingers. “This is my home.”

Reese turned her face away and pressed her cheek to Tory’s hair, not wanting her to see the tears that came quickly and unbidden. Hoarsely, she said, “How about some of that wine?”

“I can see that you’ve got plans. So why don’t you just lead the way.”

“Remember you said that.” Reese grasped Tory’s hand and guided her out onto the deck. She settled into a lounge chair and drew Tory down so that she rested with her back against Reese’s chest, nestled between her outstretched legs. With one arm curved around Tory’s waist, she leaned sideways and filled two glasses from the bottle of Merlot she had left open on a small table. “Here you go.”

Tory sipped the smooth, dry wine, sampled the crackers and cheese Reese had assembled, and watched the moon flit in and out of the clouds. It was heaven. She sighed, content.

“Cold?” Reese asked.

“No, not with your arms around me.”

“You know what I think about, every time I lie out here with you like this?”

“No, what?” Tory shifted so she could lean her head back and see Reese’s face. In the moonlight, her dark hair and bold profile were edged in silver, like an image on an ancient coin. Tory felt a surge of arousal and smiled inwardly, pleased that time and the common joys of daily life had not diminished her desire.

Feeling Tory’s gaze upon her face, Reese met her eyes. “Of the night we made love out here and afterward, you told me you wanted to have a baby.”

Tory smiled softly. “I remember. And I remember you telling me that you wanted it, too. That it would make you happy. I don’t know why I ever thought you wouldn’t understand.” Tory kissed her gently. “You always have.”

“The only thing in my life that’s made me happier than having Reggie was finding you.”

“Reese?”

“What?” Reese whispered, reaching out without looking to find the table and setting down her wineglass. Before Tory could respond, Reese turned sideways so they were facing each other and tugged Tory’s blouse from her jeans. She smoothed her palm over Tory’s belly, her fingers tracing the sweep of her ribs. “What?”

Tory arched into her touch and closed her eyes. “I…is…”

Reese released the clasp on Tory’s bra and danced her fingertips over the full curve and tight, round nipple. “What?”

“Nothing. I can’t remember. Can’t think when you touch me like that.”

“Good, don’t think. Feel me.” Reese lowered her head as she pushed Tory’s blouse higher and circled Tory’s nipple with her tongue. It hardened at the caress, and she sucked it in, scraping the edges carefully with her teeth before soothing the tingling spots with her lips. She was aware of Tory fumbling with her belt and she lifted her hips, giving her room to release it. “Don’t distract me.”

Tory laughed and held Reese’s head more tightly to her breast. “No chance. You started it. Now you have to finish.”

Reese bit down and Tory cried out. The sound made Reese’s mind swirl, pulsing red with the rush of hot blood and thick lust through her limbs. She moved from one breast to the other, licking, sucking, biting, while she unbuttoned Tory’s blouse, pausing only long enough to strip off the offending garment. She leaned away and absorbed the sight of Tory, her head thrown back, her breasts…heavier now after Reggie…flushed and swollen with desire. Tory’s chest rose and fell rapidly as her lips parted with the silent pleas only a lover could hear. Touch me, take me, claim what is yours.

“I love you,” Reese murmured.

Tory opened her eyes, her vision hazy, her body ripe and ready. “No one else ever has…not like you. Never wi…” She jerked and lost her breath as Reese cupped a hand between her legs. “Oh!”

Reese shifted until she was kneeling on the deck by Tory’s side. “I always will.” She opened Tory’s jeans. Slid the zipper down. “You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted.” She curled her fingers around the waistband, waiting for Tory to rise up so she could ease them over her hips and down her legs. “All I’ve ever needed.”

“Reese,” Tory whispered. Reese’s face was in shadow, her body curved over Tory’s like the blade of a knife, hypnotically dangerous. “Sweetheart, what…”

“I live for you, for this.” Reese leaned down, kissed the curve of Tory’s thigh where it blended into the soft folds of her sex. “And Reggie.” She brushed her fingertips through silky wetness and Tory whimpered. “Our life.”

Reese cupped Tory’s buttocks and guided her down the chaise, opening her thighs with gentle insistence. “You see the stars up there?”

Tory’s hand trembled in Reese’s hair as Reese lowered her head and kissed between her legs again. It was so hard to think.

“Yes.”

Tory’s voice was high and thin, tremulous with need.

“When I see them…” Reese caught the crystal droplets of Tory’s passion on the tip of her tongue “…I think of you.” She eased her fingers along the path her tongue had taken, sliding smoothly inside. “Of the beauty and peace you bring into my heart.”

Tory braced her arms on the sides of the lounge and pushed up so she could watch Reese make love to her. She strained against Reese’s hand, taking her deeper than she ever had. “Go inside me more. Fill me up.” Her head fell back as Reese pushed slowly forward. Her arms shook and her voice broke on a sob. “Oh God.”

“More?”

“Yes. Yes.”

Sweat drenched Reese’s back and her stomach tensed as she fought back her own aching need. She focused every ounce of concentration on Tory’s breathing, Tory’s body, Tory’s small sounds of pleasure. She pushed, Tory opened, and she pushed higher. “Oh Jesus, Tor, you’re so hot inside. You feel so amazing.”

Tory wrapped her arms around Reese’s shoulders and pressed her face to Reese’s neck. Panting, she gasped, “I want you all the way inside. Keep going. Oh, more.”

“Sure?”

“Uh-huh. Uh-huh.”

Reese slowed, waiting for the tense tissues to relax. “All right?”

“Good,” Tory groaned. “So good.” She took a long breath and willed her body to soften even as the pressure spiraled in her depths. “Do it. Let me feel you make me come.”

Reese supported Tory with an arm around her waist and steadily, carefully, relentlessly worked her hand within the slick, hot muscles. “Hold on to me,” she whispered. “Hold on, baby.”

Tory closed her eyes and gave herself over to Reese’s embrace, her legs around Reese’s hips as Reese rocked her arm between her thighs. Every thrust drove her a little bit closer to the edge, but she held back, wanting the sensation to go on forever. Wanting Reese so far inside of her that nothing could ever come between them. They were one, and nothing had ever felt so right.

Reese felt it, the first spasm, before Tory jerked in her arms and cried out, “I’m coming.”

Reese covered Tory’s mouth with hers, drinking her passion, swallowing her cries of pleasure as she curled her fingers forward and pressed the spot that always made Tory explode. She wasn’t prepared for the force of Tory’s orgasm and cried out in surprise as Tory stiffened in her arms, clamping down around her hand and dragging her to the brink of coming.

“Oh Tory,” Reese moaned. “You’re so beautiful.”

Tory couldn’t speak, she could barely breathe. She’d never come this way before, with Reese inside every cell of her body, every molecule of her consciousness. She hadn’t thought they could be any closer. But somehow they were. She pulled her hips back and then pushed down hard on Reese’s hand, and came again.

“Oh my God,” Tory gasped when she caught her breath. She laughed weakly. “What did you do?”

“Me?” Reese flung her head back, spraying sweat into the air like tears. “Me?” She slowly inched her fingers from within Tory’s body. “Jesus Christ…you said more.” She kissed Tory hard, a possessive, hungry kiss.

“True.” Tory stroked Reese’s face, then began to unbutton her shirt. “More is never enough.” She pushed the material aside and kissed Reese’s chest, then slipped her hand inside to caress her breast. “But that was damn close.”

Reese shivered.

“Cold?”

“No.”

“You didn’t come then, did you?” Tory kissed Reese’s throat and toyed with her nipple. “I can usually tell but I was so…so gone, I couldn’t tell up from down.”

“I’m okay. It was amazing.”

Tory sucked on Reese’s lip, then bit it gently. “Okay? Okay? Oh, that is just not good enough.” She pushed against Reese’s chest. “Help me stand up. I’m not sure I can walk.”

“What…”

“I want to make love to you. Inside. On a bed.”

“Oh. Well.” Reese stood and guided Tory up into her arms. She pulled a blanket from the neighboring chaise and draped it around Tory’s shoulders. “I’ll carry the wine.”

“Tory, Tory. stop,” Reese groaned. She tried to roll onto her side, but Tory held her firmly in place. “I’m done, baby.”

“That’s what you said the last time. And the time before that.” With a smug smile, Tory caught Reese’s clitoris between her teeth and tugged gently. When it hardened instantly, she sucked slowly.

Reese’s hips jerked and she tightened her fist in Tory’s hair, pulling her more tightly to her center. She couldn’t tell where she ended and Tory began, where her heartbeat stopped and Tory’s took over. She only knew she wanted, needed, never to leave this place. This sanctuary she had found, this bright shining focus of all that mattered in her life. “Tory,” she breathed as she slipped into orgasm, surrendering with total trust.

Tory felt the change in her breathing first, beneath her hand where it lay between Reese’s breasts. There was a subtle shift in the cadence, signaling not pleasure, but pain. She lifted her eyes to Reese’s face and gasped when she saw tears. Reese so very rarely cried.

“Sweetheart,” Tory exclaimed, crawling quickly up the bed and gathering Reese into her arms. She kissed her forehead, her eyelids, her mouth. “What is it? What is it?”

“Nothing.” Reese managed to keep her voice steady though her throat threatened to close around more tears. “Just love you. So much.”

Tory pulled a sheet over them and pillowed Reese’s head against her breast. “I love you too. With all my heart.”

Reese closed her eyes, waiting for sleep to come. She wanted these moments, these impossibly perfect moments when they were as close as they could ever be, to remain untarnished by what was to come. No matter where she was, she would never be far from this moment when Tory filled her heart and her body. Filled her until there was no room for fear or sadness.

Tory awakened from a sound sleep with the sense that something was terribly wrong. She sat up quickly and felt for Reese beside her. The bed was empty. She threw back the covers, pulled her robe from the back of the bedroom door, and put it on as she hurried down the hallway toward the stairs. She stopped when she realized a light was burning in Reggie’s room. She pushed the door open and looked in to see Reese, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt and sitting alone in the rocking chair they used to coax Reggie back to sleep in the middle of the night.

“It’s time for you to tell me what’s wrong,” Tory said gently. She wrapped her arms around herself, beneath her breasts, as if that could keep the bitter chill from stealing into her heart. She leaned against the door and watched an agony of emotion play across Reese’s handsome face. “Now. I can’t stand waiting, knowing you’re hurting so much.”

Reese looked into Tory’s eyes, hers filled with apology. “My father called tonight.”

Tory’s grip tightened on the material of her robe until her fingers were white.

“My unit has been activated. I’m sorry, baby. I have to go.”

“When?” Tory whispered.

Reese glanced at her watch. It was 4 a.m. Friday morning. She should have been on her way.

“This time tomorrow.”

Twenty-four hours. Tory blinked, fighting the dizziness that threatened to take her to her knees. “Oh my God.”

“I’m so sorry, Tor,” Reese murmured. “I…”

Tory held up her hand. “Hush. Come back to bed.”

Wordlessly Reese rose and took Tory’s hand, following her back to the bedroom. She stood by the side of the bed as Tory sat on the edge and unsnapped her jeans. She lifted her T-shirt over her head while Tory skimmed her pants down to the floor. When she was naked, she slid beneath the sheets and opened her arms to Tory. She held Tory, and Tory held her, arms and legs entwined.

“Thank you for tonight,” Tory whispered. “For loving me that way. Thank you for knowing I’d need it.”

“I needed it too.”

Tory kissed Reese’s throat, then the corner of her mouth, then her lips. Tenderly, with infinite care. “I know. But somehow, when you need, you give. I’ve never known anyone so unselfish.”

Reese laughed bitterly. “I’m leaving you and the baby. And you can still say that?”

Tory leaned away, her eyes dark with sorrow as she searched Reese’s face. “There are so many things I love about you. Your honesty, your bravery. Your tenderness. Maybe most of all, I love that I can always trust you to keep your promises.” She pressed her fingers to Reese’s mouth when Reese would have protested. Gently. Every touch was precious and she wanted each one to stay in her memory forever. “We’ve talked about this before, and we both knew what you would do if this happened. You made promises a long time ago, before you made them to us.”

“If I’d known…”

“Maybe it would have been different. Maybe.” Tory drew a shaky breath. It felt like she was breathing crushed glass. Everything inside of her was ripping apart. “But you made a pledge, gave your word. I knew who you were when I fell in love with you.”

“You didn’t bargain on this,” Reese pointed out. She’d do anything in her power to keep Tory and Reggie from being hurt. Do anything, give anything, including her life. And now she was causing Tory pain, and knowing that was torture.

“Reese, my darling,” Tory said quietly, cleaving to Reese along every inch of their bodies, “every day when you leave this house to go to work, I know the risk. I know what I might lose. I knew that when I watched you put yourself between that man trapped out on the jetty and hundreds of pounds of rock. And when you were shot saving a fellow officer…God, when you almost died saving me. I knew and I chose loving you because nothing in my life has ever been as good as being with you.”

“I love you so much, Tor.” Reese framed Tory’s face and kissed her, first softly, just a hint of heat skirting over her lips, then a stroke of her tongue, then the weight of her mouth, claiming her. Tory’s arms came around her, and they reached inside one another until they were breathless. Reese rolled onto her back and drew Tory against her chest. She stroked Tory’s hair, listened to Tory’s soft breathing, and felt their hearts beating close together. “I was going to tell you in the morning.”

“I know.” Tory smoothed her hand over Reese’s chest and down her abdomen, drawing one leg up over Reese’s thighs to keep them connected. “You didn’t want me to be sad when we were making love.”

“No.”

“Were you?”

“Just a little. Once or twice.” Reese stroked Tory’s back, circling her fingers along her spine and into the hollow above her hips. Her body was warm, soft and pliant, with strength and resiliency below the surface. Just like Tory herself. “When I’m making love with you there’s nothing in my mind except you. Tonight…I just needed to have you, all of you…” Her voice trailed off and she swallowed. “To take with me.”

Tory pushed up on her elbow and looked into Reese’s eyes. “You are never going anywhere without me.” She kissed Reese’s chest where a pulse beat steadily. “Here. In your heart. No matter where you are, no matter what you’re doing, I’ll be here. Right here. Because I will love you through anything, no matter what.”

“I’m counting on it,” Reese said hoarsely.

“Good,” Tory said. “You can.” She kissed her again, then settled back against Reese’s shoulder, one arm around her chest. She held her close. “Now close your eyes. You need some sleep.”

Reese was certain she couldn’t sleep, didn’t want to spend a moment unaware when she could be with Tory or Reggie. But as the heat of Tory’s body, and the soft caress of her hands, and the gentle cadence of her breathing permeated her consciousness, she drifted off.

Tory felt Reese slip into sleep. She wouldn’t cry, not just for fear of waking her, but for fear of hurting her. She would keep her own anger and sorrow and terror buried, and she would let Reese go believing that she was not dying inside. That would be her gift.

Chapter Six

Carter lay awake, eyes tightly closed against the brilliant sunshine that insisted on brightening her bedroom, and tried to place the unfamiliar sounds. After a second she sorted it out…seagulls and the distant low of the foghorn off Long Point. She’d slept with the windows open and the air was chilly, but she didn’t mind. The brisk breeze might help chase away the cobwebs left over from one too many beers the night before. She rarely drank more than two these days, but somehow the number had morphed to four when she hadn’t been looking.

She opened her eyes, wondering just what caused the gritty sandpapery sensation when she blinked. Which she did, several times, as her mind drifted back to the previous night. She could blame the beer on not enough to do. Inactivity always made her edgy. She’d taken to undercover work immediately because the adrenaline rush that came from the danger of living or dying by her wits kept her mind occupied and her body satisfied, just like good sex. She grimaced, aware that if she wasn’t in the field, involved in some action, she didn’t have much else in her life except sex. And she was running on empty there.

But this time, the case was preying on her mind, and that was odd. It wasn’t the potential danger that concerned her…she’d been in situations before where, if her true identity had become known, she’d have been a target for extermination. No, it wasn’t the case itself, it was the subject. The woman. Reluctantly she admitted that her brief and unplanned encounter with Rica had been unsettling. In those few moments when Rica hadn’t known she was being observed, she had revealed a hint of weariness and vulnerability that was never obvious in her public persona. Quite unexpectedly, Carter had seen a woman, not a mobster’s daughter, and the image lingered even weeks later.

“So what?” Carter muttered, throwing off the sheet and rising rapidly despite the protest pounding in her head. “She’s still the target. Just the target.”

After a shower dispelled the last of her fuzziness, she dug an old pair of gray chinos out of her suitcase, pulled on a washed-out Red Sox T-shirt, and headed out into the disgustingly gorgeous spring morning. At 7:30 a.m., the streets were still fairly empty. A rollerblader passed her heading west down Commercial Street at literally breakneck speed, the usual bevy of workmen in pickup trucks were clustered around the Coffee Pot Cafe on MacMillan Wharf, and a few preseason tourists ambled along, peering into the still-closed shop windows.

Carter turned east on Commercial without any conscious plan, until, fifteen minutes later, she was leaning against the corner of a building opposite Rica’s new art gallery. To her surprise, she detected shadowy movement through the large plate glass window. She checked the cars parked up the street and saw Rica’s Lexus.

“You’re working early,” Carter mused, grateful there weren’t many people around to see her talking to herself. She hadn’t yet worked out exactly how she was going to reintroduce herself to her target after the premature meeting at Alfonse Pareto’s birthday celebration. No matter how she devised it, Rica was likely to be suspicious. “Well, there’s no time like the present.”

Not one to dwell on a decision made, Carter retraced her steps until she reached the Wired Puppy, one of the specialty coffeehouses in town. She ordered two double espressos and scones. Five minutes later, she tapped on the door of Beaux Arts. At first, she thought her knock would go unanswered, but thirty seconds later Rica came into view. The don’s daughter stopped just on the opposite side of the closed door and frowned at Carter through the glass. Then she shook her head and tapped her watch, as if suggesting that Carter come back later.

Carter held the cardboard carrier containing the coffee and pastries aloft and mouthed the words, “Breakfast.”

“You just happened to be in the neighborhood?” Rica said when she opened the door, holding it ajar with her arm and blocking the entrance to the main gallery.

“Actually, yes. Are you ready for your second espresso?”

“What makes you think I’ve had a first?”

“The sign on your door says the gallery opens at eleven, but it’s not even eight o’clock.” Carter shrugged. “So you’re working at the crack of dawn, and who does that without coffee?”

Rica narrowed her eyes, taking in Carter’s casual clothes and just-showered look. Obviously, she was staying in town. And just as obviously, she hadn’t stumbled on Rica by accident. “Well, I suppose you’re a better choice than Johnny T.”

Carter, through years of practice, hid her surprise despite the spurt of adrenaline that coursed through her. Johnny T. was one of Alfonse Pareto’s musclemen. The fact that Rica referred to him so casually in Carter’s presence was a first step toward trusting her. She made a decision. In her undercover persona as a friend of the “family,” she would be expected to know Johnny T.

“I’m glad you think so. Johnny’s a nice guy, but he lacks for a bit of polish.”

“I don’t need you here. I told my father that.”

Carter tried to decode that information while hoping she looked as if she knew what Rica was talking about. Obviously Rica was not pleased to see her and assumed that she was performing some duty for Rica’s father. She couldn’t imagine… Oh, Christ. She thinks I’ve been sent here to check up on her. A female version of Johnny T. That’s not likely to get me into her good graces.

There were times when the truth was the best approach.

“I’m not working for your father.”

“And I’m supposed to believe that you would tell me if you were?”

“Look, Ms. Pareto…”

“Grechi. It’s Grechi here.”

“Ms. Grechi,” Carter said, extending the package in her hands. “Can we talk about this inside over coffee and scones?”

Rica wanted to say no. She hated being manipulated by her father, and the fact that he had sent an attractive woman when she had turned down his offer of Johnny T. infuriated her. As if a woman bodyguard, or spy, or whatever function Carter might be performing would be more acceptable just because Rica might find her attractive. Her father steadfastly refused to acknowledge her lesbianism, until it suited him. Then, when he thought it might get him what he wanted, he tried to use it to his advantage. So what if Carter Wayne was a charming, gorgeous woman…that was supposed to make her accept being spied on?

“I’m sorry. I really am quite busy. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Rica swung the door closed.

Carter could have blocked the door with her knee or shoulder, but she knew that would only prove to Rica exactly what she already suspected…that Carter was there to strong-arm her into doing something she didn’t want. So instead, she said quickly as the door closed in her face, “He didn’t send me. I swear.”

Through the glass, Rica studied Carter’s face. Her eyes were intense, unwavering. Surprisingly, they were completely unguarded, and Rica almost believed she saw truth in them. Even though she knew better, she found herself opening the door. “My first cup of coffee wasn’t espresso, and it was three hours ago. Come inside.”

“Thanks.”

Carter followed Rica through the surprisingly spacious and impressively well-stocked main gallery to a small office in the rear. That room opened through a set of sliding glass doors onto a ground deck that sat right on the beach. Rica guided her to a small, round gray granite-topped table and matching sling back chairs.

“Whoa,” Carter exclaimed as she sat down. “How did you manage to score this place?”

Rica removed the top from her espresso and sipped it appreciatively. “Good timing.”

Carter handed her a scone. “I thought I got lucky getting a single on Bradford.”

“You bought a house?” Rica said with surprise.

“Office-apartment combination,” Carter replied. She bit into the scone and brushed crumbs from her pants. “Nothing to compare to this, though.”

Carter was serious. Fifty feet away the water shimmered, a perfect mirror for the perfect clouds in the perfect blue sky. The vista was so beautiful it hurt to look at it, and she was finally awake enough to appreciate it. What made the picture memorable, though, was the sunlight glinting on the loose, midnight black waves framing Rica’s face. When the wind caught them and whipped them about her cheeks and neck, Carter had the sudden image of Rica in the throes of passion, her head flung back…

“What kind of an office?”

“Law.” Carter forced herself to focus.

“Oh, I remember now,” Rica said. “You’re an attorney.”

“That’s right.”

“And what is a high-powered Boston attorney doing in a quiet little place like this?”

Carter laughed. “And what is a high-powered New York City art gallery owner doing in a quiet little place like this?”

Rica smiled. “I asked you first.”

Carter had never seen a spontaneous smile from her before, and it nearly stopped her heart. It had always been obvious that Rica was a classically beautiful woman, but she’d never appreciated the sensuous fullness of her mouth or the deep allure of her dark eyes before this moment.

“Are you going to answer the question?”

Carter gave a start and shook her head. “Sorry. Late night. I bought the building some months ago, thinking I’d spend part of the summer over here. I’m just now getting everything set up.”

“Somehow you don’t seem the type to summer in this kind of place.”

“Really? Why is that?”

“Come now,” Rica said scornfully. “A woman who spends her time with powerful men, dealing with them on their terms, and winning, I’d wager.” She lifted her hands as if to say that was answer enough.

“What you see isn’t always the whole story,” Carter said, skirting dangerously close to the truth. For some reason, she didn’t want Rica to casually dismiss her as just another player in an unsavory game. Even though that’s exactly who she needed Rica to believe her to be.

Rica stared, momentarily unnerved by the echo of her father’s words of the night before. She couldn’t help but think that they were having an entirely different conversation than the one their words would suggest, but she couldn’t quite understand it. She also couldn’t explain to herself why she didn’t want Carter Wayne to be who she knew her to be. Another handsome, charming liar. She stood abruptly.

“I’m sorry. I have a great deal of work to do.”

Carter rose as well and collected the trash, rolling up the bag and holding it in her fist. “I imagine you do. You have some beautiful pieces on display already.”

“Thank you.”

“Would you like to join me for dinner this evening?”

“You have quite a different approach than Johnny T., too,” Rica said, turning to walk back inside.

Carter followed. “I thought we already got that settled?”

“No,” Rica said, sitting down behind her desk. “You only said you weren’t sent here by my father. I didn’t say I believed you.”

“Come to dinner, then, and let me convince you.”

Smiling despite herself, Rica shook her head once more.

“I’m sorry. I don’t have time for games. I came here to start a business, and that’s about all that I have time for.” She lifted a thick sheaf of papers. “Thank you for the coffee.”

“You’re welcome.”

Without another word, Carter turned and left the gallery. She’d been dismissed, and she sensed that any further attempt on her part to prolong the meeting would only alienate Rica completely. Not only was it necessary to the investigation for her to foster her association with Rica, but an amicable relationship was something she very much wanted. If for no other reason than to see Rica Grechi smile that astonishingly beautiful smile again.

Chapter Seven

Bri Parker leaned across her girlfriend’s naked body and grabbed the portable phone. Caroline gave a mild mewl of protest and burrowed more deeply into Bri’s side, wrapping an arm and leg securely around Bri’s body.

“‘Lo,” Bri croaked. She curved an arm beneath Caroline’s shoulder and stroked her back, squinting against the sunlight that streaked through the skylight above their heads. The sliding glass doors at the far end of the second-floor loft apartment were open, and the morning sounds and scent of the sea wafted in. It was just about a year since she’d decided to leave college and return to her hometown to follow in her father’s footsteps in the sheriff’s department. And not just her father’s footsteps, but Reese Conlon’s. She’d known Reese since she was seventeen. In those nearly four years, Reese had become her mentor, her role model, her friend. Reese was everything she’d ever wanted to be. Bri tightened her hold on her girlfriend as she listened to the request.

“Oh, man. This morning? I worked the late shift.”

“What?” Caroline mumbled. “Tell them no.”

Bri laughed. “No, sir. I didn’t say a word. I’ll be there in under an hour. Yes, sir.” She dropped the phone onto the floor beside the bed. “I gotta go in, babe.”

Caroline groaned and scooted on top of Bri. She propped her head in her hand and regarded Bri with a combination of annoyance and invitation. “I’ve only been back in town a week, and I don’t think we’ve had a chance to get properly reacquainted.” To emphasize her point, she insinuated her thigh between Bri’s and pushed down against her crotch. Then she rolled her hips and made a low humming sound of pleasure.

“Oh, hey, babe,” Bri protested weakly. “You know I don’t want to.” She arched her back as Caroline hit a particularly sensitive spot. “I mean, I want to. With you. Work. I was talking about work. Oh, Jesus, Carre. Mercy.”

“You know, all the time I was in Paris,” Caroline said, leaning down to kiss Bri, “I was sort of afraid you would fall out of love with me or not want me so much anymore when I came back. Eight months is a long time.”

“Tell me about it,” Bri murmured, catching Caroline’s small, firm breasts in her hands as they swayed above her and fanning her fingers over the smooth flesh. When Caroline’s nipples knotted against her palms, her clit tightened and she got wet. “I thought I was going to explode a million times before you got back.” She squeezed and flicked Caroline’s nipples with her thumbnails, making Caroline whimper. “I want you more than I ever did, not less.”

“Oh that’s good,” Caroline said, breathless. “That you do. What you’re doing. Don’t stop, baby.”

Bri replaced her fingers with her mouth and sucked on Caroline’s breasts, hard enough to make Caroline writhe and dig her fingers into Bri’s shoulders.

“Work or not, you’re gonna have to make me come,” Caroline warned, her eyes partway closed, her stomach quivering. “You’re getting me too excited not to.”

Wordlessly, Bri pumped her hips and flipped Caroline onto her back, following her over to resume her attentions to Caroline’s nipples. Even as she bit and sucked them, she slid her hand up the inside of Caroline’s thigh. When she cupped Caroline’s sex, Caroline covered her hand and pushed her fingers inside.

“Just fuck me. Fuck me hard.”

Bri groaned and closed her eyes tightly, locking out everything except the sensation of Caroline, inside and out. The heat of her skin, the pounding of her heart, the small cries of pleasure, the slick grip of muscles closing around her fingers. They fit together perfectly, heart to heart, body to body. They always had, since they were kids. Bri knew her…what made her cry, what made her happy, what made her come…and every time they were together like this it was as if she’d never experienced her before. She took her hard, the way Caroline wanted, the way she liked it, and felt Caroline’s orgasm flood her hand.

“Oh yeah,” Bri whispered. “Just like that, babe.”

Caroline twisted her fingers into Bri’s short black hair and pulled her head up so she could bite down on Bri’s neck as she climaxed, her whole body stiffening with one electrifying jolt after another. She moaned and shivered and finally laughed.

“I don’t know how you always make me do that so fast,” Caroline gasped.

“‘Cause,” Bri said with a grin, brushing her thumb over Caroline’s clitoris and making her twitch, “I’m the world’s best lover.”

“Mmm, yeah, true,” Caroline said lazily, smoothing her fingers over the mark she’d left on Bri’s neck, then gently tracing the scar next to it. “Lucky me.”

Bri relaxed against Caroline’s body, enjoying the way Caroline’s face always got all soft and dreamy right after she came. She loved being able to do that. Knowing that she was the cause of that look. That happiness. “Lucky me too.” She sighed. “I gotta go to work, babe.”

Caroline blinked to clear the fog of pleasure from her brain. “You really do?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Then we’d better hurry if we’re going to take care of you,” Caroline said, scraping her nails down the center of Bri’s back until she reached her butt. She squeezed Bri’s ass, planted her foot on the bed, and wedged her knee between Bri’s legs. “You ready to go for a ride?”

Bri sucked in her breath, clenched her jaws, and eased her hips away from Caroline’s leg. “I can’t. I really really gotta get a shower and go.”

“Oh, hey,” Caroline crooned, feathering Bri’s hair with her fingers. “You gonna be okay?”

Shaking her head, Bri rolled off her and sat on the edge of the bed. “No. I’m going to walk around with a stiffie all day.” She looked over her shoulder at Caroline and grinned. “But I’m gonna like thinking about you taking care of it later.”

“You do that.” Caroline stroked Bri’s thigh. “Because I’m going to, the minute you walk in the door.”

As Bri searched through the closet for a clean shirt and uniform trousers, Caroline asked from the bed, “How come you got called in?”

“They need me to take Reese’s shift.”

“Reese? Why?” Caroline threw the covers aside and got up. She pulled on sweats and a T-shirt of Bri’s from a nearby chair. “Reese is never sick. What’s going on?”

“I don’t know.” Bri pushed down the quick surge of anxiety. “My dad just said for me to come in.”

“Call me, okay? Something’s not right.”

“Yeah,” Bri muttered. “I know.”

Reese tucked her wallet into the back pocket of her jeans, slid her badge into the front, and clipped her holster to her waistband. Then she turned to face Tory, who sat at the breakfast bar in loose cotton pants and an old, stretched-out sweater that dipped low in the front and made her look impossibly sexy. “I’ll be back just as soon as I can.”

“I’ll go by the clinic and talk to Randy about rearranging my schedule,” Tory said. “I should be back here in an hour, and then we can pick up Reggie from Kate and Jean’s.”

“I wish you didn’t need to cancel patients,” Reese said. She crossed the room, put her arms around Tory, and kissed her softly. “I can pick up the baby myself, and you can work for a few hours.”

Tory shook her head. “I never take a day off. We rarely leave town for more than a week on vacation, and”…she laughed unsteadily…“I’d say this is an emergency.”

“Tor,” Reese whispered, pulling her close and rocking her. “I hate for you to be hurting.”

“I’m all right. I just don’t want to waste any of today. Go talk to Nelson, and then come home.”

“I’ll be quick.”

Tory kissed her and gave her a gentle shove. “Go ahead now. I’ll see you in a little while.”

Reese stepped away but waited to leave until Tory disappeared upstairs. She could tell by the ever-darkening shadows in Tory’s deep green eyes and the way her smile flickered shakily how hard she was trying to keep her worry and sadness a secret. Reese hated knowing she had put the pain there, and was at a loss as to how to fix it. That was the worst part. The helplessness.

For most of her life she’d been a career Marine, and an order had been just an order, a duty to be performed. She did not consider the consequences to herself because she had accepted whatever might result when she’d taken an oath to uphold the honor of the Corps and to serve her country. It had been simple and clear. Now, for the first time in her life, her duty was at odds with her responsibility. Tory’s willingness to accept the hardship of their separation was all that allowed her to leave at all. Even so, she felt pulled in two directions, and something inside was tearing apart.

She walked to her car, knowing that in less than twenty-four hours she would have to put everything aside except what she needed to do to keep those under her command safe and to carry out her duty. Until then, she was going to give everything she had to Tory and Reggie.

Since Carter had nothing to do after having been dismissed by Ricarda Pareto…Ricarda Grechi, as she apparently preferred to be called now…she decided she might as well walk down to the harbor and take a look at the area she was supposedly interested in investigating for signs of drug smuggling. The place couldn’t look less like a drug corridor than it did on this sunny morning. The commercial fishing boats had already left for the deeper ocean waters, but there were plenty of small pleasure craft, under sail and motor, coming and going in the harbor off MacMillan Wharf. Carter sipped a second cup of coffee she’d picked up along the way and leaned against a chest-high wooden piling, playing tourist and contemplating Rica Grechi.

The feds hadn’t actually provided any hard evidence tying the daughter to the father in terms of illegal activity. There had been a fair amount of interest in Rica’s gallery in Manhattan because photo surveillance had recorded shots of two upper-level drug couriers making purchases there in the last six months. That was damning, but not something you’d want to go to court on. Still, it was an intriguing piece of the puzzle and warranted continued surveillance. The fact that Rica had opened another gallery where there was already suspicious drug-related activity was a huge red flag that had practically sent Special Agent Allen into paroxysms of excitement.

Carter drained her coffee cup and tossed it into a nearby wastebasket. As she did, she noted out of the corner of her eye a gunmetal gray sedan edge along the pier and stop. She’d seen it parked up the street from Rica’s gallery that morning and she’d also seen it following her as she’d walked down Commercial Street. The driver evidently thought that because no one ever drove more than five miles an hour along the single lane one-way street, she wouldn’t notice him tailing her.

Carter decided to disavow him of that notion. She walked over to the car and tapped on the window. When she saw who was inside, she smiled.

The automatic window slid down and she leaned her forearms on the door, smiling at the man and woman in the front seat. “Hello, Agents.”

Agent Allen, her features…which would have been pretty had she ever thought to smile…set into a mask of annoyance, leaned across Toome, who was in the driver’s seat. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing.”

“Oh, for God’s sake. Get in the car before someone sees us.”

Carter glanced around the wharf. A line was queuing for the Boston ferry, and harried families with too much luggage and wayward children milled about among the gay and lesbian couples leaving after their week of enjoying majority status. The most nefarious individuals in sight were a pair of male street performers dressed like Cher and Celine Dion.

“I don’t actually think there’s anyone around who would care about…”

“Just get in the car.”

“Okay,” Carter said as she slid into the backseat. “But it would be a lot less conspicuous if you, Special Agent Allen, got out and we went for a stroll. Anyone who was really looking for an undercover team would pick up on this vehicle right away.”

Allen snorted. “Oh really? And just what would they think the two of us were doing walking around in plain sight?”

“They’d probably think we were lovers.” Carter smothered a smile at Allen’s look of horror. She lifted her shoulder. “But if you want to take a chance…”

“All right,” Allen seethed. “We’ll walk. Get out of the car.”

Apparently the once distasteful idea was suddenly more appealing, because Allen bolted from the car and Carter had to sprint before catching up with her halfway down the wharf in the center of town. She gripped Allen’s wrist to slow her down.

“What’s going on?”

“I wanted to get a look at the place, in case any kind of action develops here.”

“You mean you’ve never been?”

Allen slanted her eyes in Carter’s direction. “Why would I?”

“Well,” Carter mused, “it’s one of the most beautiful places on the East Coast. It’s got miles of national seashore. It’s got great history, excellent food, fine art, good entertainment, and beautiful women…”

“Your problem, Carter, is that you can’t keep your personal life separate from your work.”

Carter raised her eyebrows. “Is that so? And how exactly would you know that?”

“It’s not exactly a secret that you’ve slept with witnesses, and for all I know, probably suspects.”

Carter laughed. “The only entertaining I’ve done with witnesses has been after a case has closed. As to suspects, well, it’s one instance where handcuffs are a turnoff.”

Allen stopped dead. “If I didn’t think you had the best chance of getting into Ricarda Pareto’s bed, I would’ve had you pulled off this investigation a long time ago.”

“It’s Grechi.”

“What?”

“Grechi. She’s going by Grechi, not Pareto.”

“Her grandmother’s name?”

“And her mother’s maiden,” Carter pointed out.

“Why? Has she ever done that before?” Allen reached into her pocket for a small notebook, but at Carter’s look of amusement, changed her mind. “All right, then. What’s your theory?”

“I got the sense that she came here because no one knows her. Maybe she doesn’t want to be the don’s daughter.”

Allen gave Carter an incredulous look. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Why? What do you really have on her that says otherwise?”

“That’s your job,” Allen said acerbically. “It would be nice if you actually did it for a change. So just do whatever it is that you do, and get to the pillow talk.”

“Maybe she’s not my type.”

“Make the sacrifice.”

“Maybe I’m not hers,” Carter said, realizing the thought bothered her.

“So charm her.”

After their brief encounter that morning, Carter wasn’t certain that charming Rica was going to be all that easy, but she liked the prospect. She regarded Allen seriously. “Look, this town is too small to have you hanging around. If Rica’s father does send someone over here to keep an eye on her, they’re going to be on to you and Toome right away. Stay out of town.”

“I’m not leaving you unsupervised,” Allen said. “But the next time, I’ll come alone and book a room somewhere. I’ll play tourist.”

Carter shook her head. “You’re the boss.”

“You’d do well to remember that.”

Allen turned her back and marched back down the wharf toward the gray sedan. Carter wondered who had been telling Agent Allen that she would sleep with suspects to get information. She actually never had, although she’d done drugs with a few to prove her cover story. It wasn’t a moral issue, since fabricating entire existences was part of her undercover work and using sex as a ploy to get what she needed came under the heading of “doing what was necessary to get the job done.” She’d always been able to find out what she needed short of getting completely up close and personal, and she’d actually never been tempted to take what was frequently offered. She just hadn’t been interested.

Watching the federal agents drive away, Carter stuffed her hands in her pockets and headed west down Commercial Street, opposite the direction she really wanted to go. She wanted to go east, back to Rica’s gallery. Carter didn’t relish the idea of lying her way into Rica’s bed, and she wasn’t sure why. The woman was beautiful and desirable.

Still she remembered the way Rica had searched her face through the glass, as if looking for truth. Making her believe she’d found it, when it was all a lie, was going to be harder than Carter thought.

Chapter Eight

Bri parked her brand-new Harley Roadster next to Reese’s Blazer and took the stairs up to the office two at a time. When she shouldered through the door, she saw her partner Ali already at her desk and Gladys in her usual place at the call station.

“Hey. What’s going on?” Bri asked of no one in particular. She dropped her motorcycle gloves and helmet on her desk.

Ali shrugged and Gladys pointed to Nelson’s office.

“They’re in there.”

Bri looked from one woman to the other, sensing a disturbance in the air. Tiny fingers of dread trickled along her spine, and she shrugged the apprehension away. Needing somewhere to aim her uneasiness, she strode to her father’s office door and knocked sharply. When she heard a rumble that approximated Come in, she pushed it open and stepped inside. Reese sat in one of the chairs in front of her father’s desk. She didn’t look sick, but she did look odd in her civilian clothes. Bri was used to Reese always being command perfect when at work, her uniform crisp and clean, her attitude focused and certain. Again, she had the feeling that something was out of place. Off kilter. As if the world had tilted just a little bit.

With a note of bravado in her voice, Bri said, “What gives?”

Reese turned ever so slightly in her chair and locked gazes with Bri. Her face was expressionless but her eyes were sharp and hard. “Do you want to rephrase that, Officer?”

For a second, Bri was tempted to resist the authority in Reese’s voice. For a second, she was the same angry, belligerent teenager she’d been the first night Reese had come upon her and Caroline making out in a dark alley. She’d been ready to fight then, and she was ready to fight now. Because she felt threatened and afraid. She took a breath and looked from her father to Reese, and could find no enemy. She squared her shoulders and faced her father.

“You wanted to see me, Chief Parker?”

“I need you to take Conlon’s shift.”

“Yes sir.”

Reese stood. “And I need you to come for a ride with me.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Nelson stood as well and stretched his hand out across the desk. “I’ll see you soon, Conlon.” His voice was husky and he cleared his throat before clasping Reese’s hand. He shook it firmly and added, “And give them hell.”

“Yes sir,” Reese said to the standard exhortation. “I will, sir.”

Bri didn’t say anything as she and Reese walked through the squad room, but she felt Ali’s and Gladys’s eyes on them. Her stomach burned and her legs felt wobbly, and she didn’t have the slightest idea why. There was nothing visibly wrong, except her father looked sad in a way he hadn’t since that night she’d been attacked in the dunes. When she’d been beaten and…

“Is Tory all right?” Bri stopped dead in the middle of the parking lot. “She’s not hurt, is she?”

Yes, she is. And I’m to blame. Reese shook her head. “No, she’s fine. Come on, get in the truck and I’ll explain.”

Bri climbed into the passenger seat and sat with her hands clasped between her knees, staring straight ahead as Reese pulled out of the lot, turned left and then left again onto Route 6. They were going to the parking lot at Herring Cove. They always seemed to go there when Reese wanted to talk to her. Knowing that made her both comfortable and uneasy. Something was coming, something she probably didn’t want to hear. But this was Reese, and she trusted her in a way that she trusted no one else in her life. She trusted her father to care for her and about her, but not to understand her. She trusted Caroline to understand and to love her, but she felt protective of Caroline and wanted to always be strong for her. With Reese, she knew she was understood, and loved, and if she needed it, protected.

“You can just go ahead and say it,” Bri said.

“That was my plan.” Reese smiled and stopped the vehicle midway down the long narrow parking lot, away from any other vehicles. The tide was coming in and white froth bubbled along the water’s edge, tracing a lacy border where sand met sea. She turned off the ignition, released her seat belt, and swiveled until her back was against the door. She waited until Bri did the same.

“My reserve unit has been called up, and I’m going to be deployed to the Middle East.” Reese said it matter-of-factly, because that’s exactly what it was. She was a lieutenant colonel in the United States Marine Corps Reserves. And whether this particular involvement was called a war or not was of no consequence to her. She had pledged to serve and to fight, if asked to, and that’s what she was going to do.

“When?” Bri’s throat was dry, but her voice was steady, and she was pleased about that.

“I’m leaving tomorrow at four a.m. I’d like you to drive me to the airport.”

“Sure.” Bri closed her fingers tightly into fists. “Tomorrow?”

Reese nodded.

“How do you know you’ll be sent… you know. Where there’s fighting?”

“My father knows my orders. He told me.”

“Oh.” Bri looked away from Reese out the windshield toward Cape Cod Bay. She’d seen the scene a thousand times. She’d seen the waves stretch endlessly across the horizon, seen the white slash of gulls diving through a crystal blue sky, seen clouds float by like wishes, impossible to catch. She tried to imagine being surrounded by endless miles of scorching sand and blistering sun and sudden death. “Someplace bad?”

“There’s no place that’s safe,” Reese said quietly, “but I’ve got a top-notch unit.”

“When will you be back?”

“I don’t know.”

Bri jerked her head around. “The television says it will be over soon. Weeks, maybe a few months.”

“I know. But sometimes…” Reese lifted a hand, blew out a breath. “Sometimes things change. It’s better not to think about how long it will be.”

“It doesn’t work,” Bri said sharply. “I tried that when Carre went to Paris… I know it’s not the same, but…”

“It was hard, just the same. I know.” Reese tapped her closed fist on Bri’s knee. “And you did well.”

Bri snorted. “You didn’t see me sometimes.”

“I saw you do what needed to be done,” Reese said quietly. “You stood strong for her.”

“How’s Tory?”

“Standing strong.” Reese brushed a hand over her face. “I have a favor to ask of you.”

Bri sat up, her feet flat on the floor, her back straight. It was as close as she could get to coming to attention in a seated position. “Anything.”

“I’m putting you in charge of the dojo until I get back.”

“Tory outranks me.”

“I know, but she’ll be busy with the baby, and”…Reese smiled…“we both planned for you to take over someday.”

“Just until you come back,” Bri said insistently.

“Just until then,” Reese affirmed. “And one more thing.”

“Tory.”

“Yes.” Reese met Bri’s unwavering gaze, proud of the strength she saw there. “She won’t lean on anyone, but she loves you and I know you love her. If there comes a time when she needs to lean, even if she doesn’t want to, I need you to be there.”

Bri’s throat moved convulsively and she swallowed back a sudden swell of tears. “I will, but nothing’s going to hap…”

“Good enough.” Reese started the engine. “Thanks for taking my shift today.”

“Sure.”

“And Bri,” Reese said gently before backing out of the space. When Bri looked over, Reese brushed a hand over Bri’s cheek and through her hair. “It’ll be okay.”

“Pia,” Tory said into the phone as she dropped the last file on the corner of her overcrowded desk. “It’s Tory.”

“Hi,” Pia Torres said. “What’s up?”

“Is KT coming in this weekend?”

“She’s here now. She came in on an early plane and is just taking a shower. Do you need her?”

“Would it be okay if I stopped by for just a minute? I know she’s probably tired if she worked all night, but…”

Pia laughed. “We’re talking about the same KT, right? The tall, dark-haired surgeon with the endless energy who’s never happier than when she’s working?”

Despite the million things on her mind, Tory smiled. It was still hard to believe that KT, her once and long-ago lover, the woman who had turned her life upside down and nearly torn her heart out in the process, was back in her life again. Back in her life and happily involved with a friend of hers, and it didn’t bother Tory a bit. In fact, she and KT had finally made peace and with it, a great deal of her past had finally been laid to rest. “Unless you’ve gotten a new girlfriend since the last time I saw you, that would be the one.”

“Then she’s wide awake and I was just about to fix her something to eat. Come on over.”

“Thanks. I promise I won’t keep you.”

“Tory, just hush and get over here.”

Six minutes later, Tory parked in front of Pia’s bungalow, a classic white Cape Codder set back from the street on the far west end of Commercial. KT didn’t live there; she worked in Boston as a trauma surgeon and spent as much of her time off as possible with Pia. Today, Tory was especially glad to have KT back. Despite all the pain, KT was one of the most important people in her life.

Pia, her jet black curls framing a dark-eyed, sensuous face that typified her Portuguese heritage, came out the front door onto the small, neat porch as Tory made her way up the walkway between the flower gardens. She regarded Tory with a concerned smile. Impromptu visits were not common. “She’s in the kitchen.”

“Thanks.” When Tory realized that Pia was going to wait out on the porch, she added, “This is about you, too. Come inside.”

KT O’Bannon, tall, dark, and proverbially handsome, rose from her seat in the kitchen that looked out over Pia’s rear gardens. She was barefoot, in jeans and a frayed white T-shirt, and her dark hair was wet from her recent shower. “Hey, Vic. What’s going on?”

Tory smiled at the old nickname that she had once asked KT to stop using because it was so painfully intimate. Now she found it warmly familiar. KT reminded her of Reese in some ways. They were devilishly good-looking, strong and commanding, and beneath the charisma, tender. KT, however, through no fault of her own when Tory looked back on it now, had never provided the solid, unshakable foundation that Reese brought to Tory’s world. And Tory had never been able to give KT the freedom she needed along with the certainty of always having a safe place to return, as Pia was able to do.

Tory kissed KT’s cheek. “It’s good to see you.”

KT frowned and pulled out a chair at the table. “Sit. Let me get you some coffee. You look beat.”

“Why, thank you. I think.” Tory laughed shakily and pushed her hands through her hair.

“You sit,” Pia said, brushing her hand over KT’s back. “I’ll get you both some coffee.”

“Thanks, honey,” KT said before turning her attention to Tory. “What’s wrong?”

“I hate to do this to you two, because I know you worked last night and you’re probably looking forward to a weekend off, but I need you to cover my practice tonight and maybe part of tomorrow.”

“Sure,” KT said immediately. “Why?”

“Reese’s reserve unit has been called to duty. She’s leaving tomorrow morning.” Even as she said it, Tory found the words hard to absorb. She and Reese hadn’t been apart except for the once-a-month weekends and the few weeks every summer when Reese had to fulfill Marine reserve responsibilities. Even sitting across the table from KT, a woman she had loved for years, she couldn’t remember a time when Reese had not filled her heart and her mind. “I don’t want us to be disturbed tonight.”

“Of course we want to help,” Pia said.

“Jesus.” KT turned her coffee cup in her hands, frowning. “Isn’t her father some big deal in the military?”

“He’s a general.”

“Can’t he do anything about this? Get her some kind of deferment or something?”

Tory laughed, a short harsh sound. “KT. He’s been waiting for this to happen. He’s never forgiven her for leaving active duty, and he sees this as her chance to advance.”

“You’re kidding.”

Pia came to stand behind KT and rested her hands gently on KT’s shoulders. She leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “Sweetheart, maybe Reese doesn’t want a deferment.” She looked over KT’s head at Tory. “Reese strikes me as the kind of person who would go if it was required of her.”

“Oh come on,” KT said. “She’s got a wife and child to think about. Why would she…”

“You’re right, Pia,” Tory said softly. “I wouldn’t say that Reese wants to go, but she wouldn’t be Reese if she didn’t feel compelled to carry out her duty.”

“That’s bullshit,” KT snapped. “You’re her duty.”

Pia cupped one hand on the back of KT’s neck and squeezed gently, massaging the muscles that had turned to iron. “Tory’s going to be fine.”

Tory shook her head, amazed by Pia’s ability to read beneath the surface of KT’s anger and arrogance. She leaned across the table and took KT’s hand. “I appreciate you being upset for me. It’s complicated. Reese is complicated. But she loves me and Reggie more than anything in the world, and this is hard for her too.”

“Good,” KT muttered, but the edge had gone out of her voice. “I can take your patients all weekend, if you need me to.”

“You need a break sometimes, too. Just until tomorrow afternoon.” Tory stood and gave Pia and KT a grateful smile. “Thanks for being such good friends.”

KT rose and walked Tory to the door, one arm around her shoulders. “You sure you’re okay, Vic?”

“Scared,” Tory admitted. She stopped in the doorway and rested her head against KT’s shoulder. “It might all be over in just a few weeks. I just don’t know what I’d do if…”

“Don’t,” KT said gently. “Reese Conlon has the best reason in the world to keep her ass out of trouble. She’s got you and Reggie. She’ll be back before you know it.”

“God, I hope so,” Tory said fervently.

KT kissed Tory’s forehead. “Thanks for letting me help.”

“Thanks for being here.” Tory looked past KT’s shoulder to where Pia stood in the kitchen doorway, watching them. “Both of you.” Then she took a deep breath and smiled. “Now, I’ve got to go. I’ve got a date with my lover.”

Chapter Nine

“I made sandwiches,” Kate said to Tory and Reese when she opened the door. “Go on back to the kitchen. Jean has Reggie outside.”

Reese held Tory’s hand as they walked through the house her mother shared with her lover Jean. She couldn’t help thinking of the first night she had arrived on her mother’s doorstep after their twenty-year separation. She hadn’t quite known what to expect, because she had never been entirely certain why her mother had broken off contact after her divorce from Reese’s father. When Kate revealed that her ex-husband had forbidden her to communicate with Reese upon learning that Kate and Jean were lovers, Reese was more sad than angry. She loved her father, and that would never change. But he had made his anger her punishment, and in her heart she knew he had been unfair. She would never be able to replace the years she had lost with her mother. Unconsciously, she pulled Tory closer.

“What is it?” Tory said gently, wrapping an arm around Reese’s waist as they stopped in front of the glass doors leading out to the deck. Jean and Reggie sat together on the weathered wooden surface, a jumble of building blocks scattered between them. Reggie, her hair the same red-gold-brown as Tory’s, wore a baby-sized Red Sox cap that shielded her fair skin from the sun.

“She’s going to walk soon,” Reese said.

Tory frowned, trying to decipher the source of the pain riding just below the surface of Reese’s voice. She caught her breath, understanding. “She’s going to be the most videoed baby on the planet.” She turned Reese to face her, slid both arms up to her shoulders, and kissed her softly. “You’re not going to miss a second. I promise.”

Reese nodded, not trusting her voice to be steady. She rested her forehead against Tory’s and angled her head to watch Reggie. She was just in time to see Reggie fling a block off the deck with an exuberant squeal. “She’s got a pretty good arm already.”

“If this had to happen,” Tory said, “this is the perfect time. You’ll be back in plenty of time to teach her everything she’ll need to know.”

From the doorway, Kate said, “You were about Reggie’s age when Roger started his second tour in Vietnam.” She indicated the table and the sandwiches she’d made earlier. “Sit. Have something to eat. I know what these days are like, right before you ship out. The minutes drag and the hours fly by. Neither of you has probably had anything except coffee all day.”

“Thank you,” Tory said, drawing Reese with her to the table. She kept hold of Reese’s hand as she reached for a sandwich. “Was he gone a long time?”

Reese stiffened but said nothing. Tory deserved the chance to share her uncertainty with someone who understood.

Kate sat down with them. “A little over a year the first time. Almost two the second.”

“My God,” Tory breathed. “How did you cope?”

“First of all, I knew when I married him that we might be separated frequently and for extended periods of time, so I was at least mentally prepared. I also lived on base, and there were lots of other young wives in the same situation. We banded together around our shared insecurities.” She clasped Tory’s free hand and smiled at Reese, her eyes calm and certain. “Reese inherited one very important thing from her father’s side of the family. Conlons make great Marines. Reese is going to be fine.”

Reese laughed softly. “You must’ve made a great Marine wife.”

“I did,” Kate said archly. “Until I ran off with Jean.”

The three laughed, and the atmosphere in the room lightened. Reese and Tory finally started in on the sandwiches. Jean came in from outside and passed a wriggling Reggie to Tory. She kissed first Reese and then Tory on the cheek before taking the remaining seat at the table.

“How are you two doing?”

Reese glanced at Tory, who smiled back.

“Pretty well,” Tory said. “It just came up so suddenly, but I’m catching my breath now. Reese?”

Reese hesitated. She wasn’t sure anyone would understand her answer, but if not these women who loved her, then who? She raised Tory’s hand and brushed her lips over Tory’s knuckles. “I’m not concerned about going. I’m only having a hard time leaving.”

The room was silent until Kate said matter-of-factly, “I think that’s exactly the way it should be. There’ll be no need for you to worry about anything while you’re over there except doing your job. Everything here at home is going to be fine.”

“I’m sure of it,” Reese said, knowing that even as she was doing whatever she had to do, part of her would always be thinking about Tory and home.

“Are you sure you don’t want us to keep Reggie tonight?” Jean asked. “You know she’s no trouble at all.”

Reese held out her arms and Reggie squirmed toward her. Reese settled Reggie in her lap and brushed her hand over the top of her head. “Thanks, but I want to put her to bed. I promised to finish this story we’ve been reading.”

“Excuse me,” Tory said, abruptly rising.

“Tor?” Reese said with concern.

Tory turned away, gesturing toward the adjoining room. “Bathroom.”

Once behind closed doors, Tory leaned her head back and squeezed her eyes tightly, biting down on her lower lip to stop the flood of tears. Kate was right. Reese was trained for this. There was no one better than Reese at what she did. Reese would go and do what she needed to do and then she’d come home. And their life would go on.

Please, Tory thought, please just let her come home so we can have our life back.

Rica slid into the back row of the meeting room on the second floor of Town Hall just as the president of the Women’s Business Association called the meeting to order. She looked around the room at the other women, who were dressed casually and ranged in age from early twenties all the way up to well past conventional retirement age. She had decided to attend to show that she was a serious part of the business community. And even though, unlike most of the business owners in town, she wasn’t dependent on the income she could earn during the four to six months of the tourist season, she still wanted to acquaint herself with the economic realities of the seasonal market.

She leaned back as a newcomer moved down her aisle to an empty chair next to hers.

“Excuse me. Sorry.”

Rica shifted sideways and eyed Carter as she settled next to her. Leaning close, she whispered, “Are you following me?”

“Yes.” Carter grinned. It was the truth, after all. She hadn’t had anything better to do than watch the gallery, and she had just about decided to go in when Rica had come out. So she’d followed her. “You wouldn’t go to dinner with me, so I thought I’d make a pest of myself until you relented.”

“That’s called stalking.”

“Not if I admit it.”

Smiling, Rica shook her head and faced forward.

Carter feigned interest in the proceedings, but all of her attention was riveted on the woman next to her. Rica had changed out of the silk blouse and slacks she had been wearing earlier into jeans and a dark red sweater. It looked like cashmere, soft and subtly clinging to the gentle curves of her breasts. She smelled of something warm and breezy, like sunshine on summer sand.

“You’re staring,” Rica said quietly without moving her gaze from the woman who was discussing the issue of diverting traffic down Commercial Street during business hours.

“Sorry,” Carter whispered. “You look terrific.”

“Whatever you think you know about me, you’re wrong.”

Carter settled back in her seat and waited for the meeting to end. Twenty minutes later, it did, and when participants began to fold up the metal chairs and stack them against the wall, she took advantage of the noise to lean close to Rica.

“Even if I heard wrong, and you’re not a lesbian, I’d still like to take you to dinner.”

Rica flipped up the seat of her chair sharply and walked away. Carter closed hers and followed.

“You know where I work,” Rica said, “and I’m sure it’s not difficult for you to find out where I live. If you want to shadow me, fine. But I already told you I don’t need you around, and I’m not going to make your job easier.”

“And I already told you I’m not working for any of our mutual acquaintances.” For a second, Carter forgot that she was lying. All she really wanted in that moment was for Rica to believe that she wanted to spend time with her. Because that was the truth. “So just pretend I’m a stranger.”

“I’m not in the habit of going anywhere with strangers. Especially not out to dinner.”

“Look, I don’t know anyone in town,” Carter said, holding her hands up in an “I’m harmless” gesture. “Just some food and a little conversation. Have you eaten? I bet you haven’t.” Not unless you snuck out the back door sometime in the last three hours when I wasn’t looking.

“I was going to stop for something at one of the takeout places on the pier.”

“Excellent. So let’s do that and you come over to my place. It’s just around the corner, and I’ve got cold beer and a fairly decent bottle of wine.”

Rica sighed. “No business. Of any kind.”

Carter crossed her heart. “Deal.”

Despite herself, Rica laughed.

Fifteen minutes later, Carter led Rica up the outside staircase to her second-floor apartment, unlocked the door, and held it open with her shoulder for Rica to pass inside. She flipped on the light with one hand and carried the takeout bag she held in the other into the kitchen.

“Beer or wine?”

“Wine, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“No trouble at all.” Carter pulled plates from the cabinet above the sink and looked over her shoulder into the living room. “We can eat out on the deck. It’s got a tiny bit of a view.”

Rica opened the doors to let the heat out and the breeze in, and then walked back inside to help Carter. “What are you really doing here?”

Carter paused, trying to look unfazed while scrambling for an answer. Rica continued to surprise her. She was disarmingly direct while frustratingly distant. It was a tantalizing and intriguing combination. “I thought we said no business.”

Rica felt a flash of disappointment. Of course, whatever the reason Carter was in town, whether it was to report to her father about her activities or not, it was still most likely to be related in some way to the far-reaching tentacles of her father’s enormous organization. “I’m sorry, you’re right. I’m afraid that doesn’t leave us very much to talk about.”

Carter finished pouring the wine and handed Rica the glass of Bordeaux. She opened a beer for herself. “On the contrary. Now we’re free to talk about anything we like. No codes required.”

Rica grimaced. “You don’t seem to have the usual paranoia of most…business associates. Or the obsequiousness.”

“Really?” Carter laughed. “You don’t think following you around town and begging you to have dinner with me was just a little ingratiating?”

Rica smiled that secretive, sad smile that made Carter’s heart tighten. “Maybe just a little.”

“Good. Maybe before the night’s over, I can win a few more points.” Carter opened the takeout containers and transferred the food onto plates. She handed one to Rica. “Let’s sit outside and enjoy the sunset.”

Wordlessly, Rica followed Carter, wondering exactly how she had come to be in a stranger’s apartment. A strange woman, who was very obviously trying to seduce her, and who was just the kind of person she had vowed never to get involved with. She had to admit, though, that Carter’s annoying arrogance was counterbalanced by her refreshing lack of concern for who Rica was. Or more precisely, who her father was. And that was unusual.

So many people in her life had a hidden agenda. They wanted to claim some kind of relationship with her, believing, falsely, that this would gain them favor in the eyes of her father. Men refused to accept the fact that she was not interested in them as bedmates; women pretended friendship or, on occasion, attraction, to move closer to the inner circle of power through her. She’d learned to keep people at a distance, not only because they were often disappointing but because they could be dangerous.

“Your food’s going to get cold,” Carter said softly. She wondered what had put the slightly pensive, slightly faraway look on Rica’s face and resisted the urge to touch her. The physical pull she experienced when she was anywhere near Rica was far stronger than just the ordinary response to a beautiful woman, and she silently reminded herself to be careful.

“I’m sorry.” Rica sighed. “I’m not even particularly good company, and that was half the reason for your invitation.”

“I lied about that.”

“Really?” Rica sipped her wine and eyed Carter curiously. “Which part?”

“I don’t know anyone in town. That’s true.” Carter grinned sheepishly. “But I don’t really care if we talk about anything at all. I’d like to, at some point. But for tonight, I’m happy just to sit out here with you.”

“I don’t know why, but I believe that.” Rica stretched out her legs and tilted her head back, watching the stars suddenly blink on as if a switch had been turned. “It’s amazing, that instant when night falls.”

“You never see it in the city. Too many lights.”

“This place does have a slightly otherworldly feel to it.” Rica nibbled at her sandwich, contemplating the strange sense of freedom she’d had ever since arriving, even though she knew reality was just minutes away. “I can almost believe that I’ve escaped.”

Carter balanced her beer bottle on her knee, watching moonlight dance in Rica’s hair. She didn’t have to see her eyes to know the sadness in them. She’d already seen it more than once, when Rica had been unaware, and she suspected that it was never far from the surface. She found herself wanting nothing more than to make it go away. Counter to all her objectives in getting to know Rica Grechi, she said, “Who knows. Maybe you’ll be able to, here.”

“It would be nice to think so.” Rica shook her head with a rueful smile, then straightened, as if forcibly banishing unwanted thoughts. “I truly am terrible company. I should go.”

“I’m glad you stopped by.” Carter, for the second time that day, had the feeling that the slightest bit of pressure would send Rica fleeing permanently. “I’d like to do it again.”

“Are you always this persistent?” Rica rose and started back into the apartment.

Carter followed. “Always.”

Rica set her wineglass on the counter along with her plate of barely touched food. Then she turned and regarded Carter seriously. “I don’t know what it is you’re really after.” She held up her hand when Carter started to protest. “But whatever it is, nothing of consequence is going to happen between us.”

“Define consequence. Does that include sex?”

“No, it doesn’t. Not necessarily. But you might as well know right now that if anything of that nature were to happen, it would be casual and nothing more.”

Carter leaned back against the counter and folded her arms. “I can see that you’re used to making all the rules. Does everyone always play along?”

The corner of Rica’s mouth twitched. “Usually. Yes.”

“Well, I can agree to the casual stipulation.” She suddenly took a step that brought her very close to Rica. Without touching her with her hands, she closed her mouth over Rica’s and kissed her. When Rica didn’t pull away, she skimmed the tip of her tongue lightly over Rica’s bottom lip before pulling back. “But I intend for it to have very memorable consequences.”

Rica’s eyes swept down Carter’s body and back up, a slow appraising survey, languid as a caress. “We’ll see. Good night, Carter.”

“Ms. Grechi,” Carter murmured, watching her walk out the door. She listened to her footsteps on the stairs, then let out a long breath. Jesus Christ, what the hell just happened?

Nothing about the evening had gone the way she had planned, especially not the way her body had ignited at the first touch of Rica’s mouth. She opened another bottle of beer and tried to tell herself everything was under control. But she knew she was lying.

Chapter Ten

As Rica walked back from Carter’s to the gallery, where she had left her car, she appreciated once more that nothing in Provincetown was very far from anything else. Commercial Street followed the curve of the harbor for three miles, defining the main business and tourist heart of the little village. Though it was after nine at night and all the businesses were closed, people still strolled down the middle of the street, drinking a last cup of coffee, window shopping, or making their way to one of the few restaurants or bars open during the off-season. She disregarded the man standing in front of her gallery, apparently perusing the items visible through the window, until she was close enough to recognize the sharp profile and thick, dark hair that always seemed on the verge of needing a cut.

“What are you doing here, Enzo?” Rica said as she stepped up beside her cousin.

Enzo leaned down and kissed Rica’s cheek. “Your manners are no better now than they were when you were six.”

“Maybe that’s because you’re still a bully.”

Enzo laughed and put his arm around her shoulders, forcing her to face him. “You wouldn’t think that if you weren’t so determined to be independent.” He brushed his mouth over her ear as he murmured, “With me, you might even like it.”

“I think I’ve made it plain to you why I wouldn’t.” Rica put her hand against his chest and tried to push away. His grip tightened and the expression on his face went from amused to angry. For the first time, Rica realized just how vulnerable she was outside the immediate sphere of her father’s influence and the ever-watchful presence of his trusted employees. Even in Manhattan, “friends” of the family were in and out of her gallery constantly, and some of them had undoubtedly been dispatched to monitor her welfare. She hadn’t liked the attention, but some part of her had not found the protection unwelcome.

Now she was very much aware of being alone. Fleetingly, and for no reason she could imagine, she saw Carter’s face. Then it was gone and she was doubly aware of Enzo’s unwanted touch. Determined not to let him sense her uneasiness, Rica kept her voice low and steady. “You don’t have anything that interests me. You should know that by now.”

“That won’t always be the case, little cousin,” Enzo snarled. He tilted his hips forward until his crotch brushed against her pelvis. “Your father thinks more highly of me than you do.”

Rica felt his erection press against her lower abdomen but she didn’t pull away. She knew from experience that struggling would only excite him more. She kept her eyes firmly on his. “I’m not one of my father’s assets, to be awarded to the highest earner. Whatever payment you think you have coming, it won’t be me.”

“He wants grandchildren. I’m sure you can tell, I’m ready and able to give him some.” Enzo moved his arm from Rica’s shoulders to her waist, holding her even more firmly against his body. “As for the women you think you want…” He lifted a shoulder and smiled unctuously. “That might prove interesting for all of us.”

“No matter what my father wants,” Rica said, “he would never condone you putting your hands on me when I didn’t want it.”

Enzo relaxed his grip slightly. “One thing I know about you, Rica, is that you fight your own battles. You never told him about our childhood games. You won’t tell him anything now.”

“Games?” Rica had a quick flash of being twelve and angrily telling her older cousin that she wasn’t interested in him that way because she preferred girls. Laughing, the fourteen-year-old Enzo had held her down with the weight of his body, forcing her to kiss him while he ground his pelvis into hers. She had bitten him, and he’d slapped her before trapping her hand between their bodies and making her caress him. Then, like now, she never moved her eyes from his. “He would have killed you then, just like now.” She braced both hands against his chest and shoved him back a step, knowing he would not create a scene in the middle of a public thoroughfare.

“You never told,” Enzo said musingly, dropping his hands. “Maybe because you didn’t really mind.”

Rica shook her head. Enzo was baiting her, and she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of her anger. It would have created a family schism had she complained to her father of Enzo’s actions, and Enzo had known then, as now, that she would never do that. The family came first, before anything else. “I’m going home.”

“I have some business to discuss with you.”

“I’m neither discussing nor doing any kind of business with you.”

“This message comes from your father.” Enzo glanced up and down the street, then took her arm more gently this time. “Let’s go for a walk and have a friendly conversation. Like loving cousins, eh?”

Reluctantly, Rica fell into step beside him. It was normal for her father to use Enzo or some other trusted associate to contact her about anything business related. He never discussed such matters on the phone. They walked silently into the center of town and then out onto MacMillan Wharf. The wind knifed across the water and she shivered from the slashing cold. The sweater that had been sufficient to keep her warm a few hours earlier was woefully inadequate now, but she said nothing. Enzo was like a wild animal, preying on the weaknesses of others. She would never give him that advantage.

“What did my father say?”

“Look,” Enzo said, pointing to a vessel rounding Long Point and entering the harbor.

The double-decker ferry stood out against the nighttime sky, blazing with lights on every level and approaching the pier at what looked like an impossibly fast speed. Under other circumstances, Rica enjoyed watching the captain guide the huge ship against the dock with barely a bump. Tonight, Enzo’s presence tainted even that small pleasure.

“From here to the pier at the World Trade Center in Boston in ninety minutes.” Enzo indicated the harbor where a number of yachts were moored. “And so accessible to visitors. You couldn’t have picked a better place to live.”

“Yes,” Rica said, pretending she didn’t follow his conversation. “It’s beautiful here.”

“I’m sure your gallery will do very well. Some friends are very anxious to display their works there, and it’s so easy for them to deliver the merchandise.”

Rica shook her head. “I’m sorry. I have limited space. The gallery in Manhattan would be better suited for that.”

“Your father doesn’t think so.”

Rica wasn’t surprised that Enzo was relaying this cloaked request. She and her father never talked of the family enterprises, which allowed them to avoid confrontation over areas where they disagreed. “I’m sure my father will understand I’m very busy with the work I already have on consignment. Please give him that message for me.”

When she turned to leave, Enzo caught her shoulder and swung her back to face him. She pulled away, her voice as icy as the wind. “Is there something else?”

“There may come a time when you’ll need a favor from me.” Enzo trailed his fingers along the edge of her jaw and down her neck. “There are many who believe a man is the rightful head of a family.” He half closed his eyes and bowed his head. “If anything should happen to Don Pareto, God forbid.”

Rica resisted the urge to clasp her arms over her breasts, although her instincts screamed for her to shield herself from his fury and his thwarted lust. “My father is still a relatively young man. You’re likely to find yourself in the same position as Prince Charles…too old to rule if the time ever comes.”

Enzo laughed. “I’ll have you in my bed long before then. You’ll think differently of matters after that.”

“I’ll kill you before I’ll ever let you touch me.”

Rica turned and walked away before he could touch her again. When she was far enough away that he couldn’t see her, she gave in to the cold that chilled her body and soul. Shivering uncontrollably, she wrapped her arms tightly around herself and hurried into the dark.

Tory set the book that she hadn’t been reading onto the bedside table as Reese walked into the room. Reese wore an old T-shirt and shorts with the Marine Corps insignia on them, as she often did at night around the house. In fact, everything about the evening had been so routine since they’d returned from Kate and Jean’s, Tory could hardly believe that her entire life was about to change in six hours.

“Did you get to the end of the story?”

Reese smiled. “Nope. She fell asleep with half a chapter to go.” Reese stripped off her T-shirt and shorts and climbed naked into bed. She pulled the sheet up to her waist, turned on her side, and rested her palm in the center of Tory’s abdomen. “I’ll finish it when I get back.”

“Good.” Tory covered Reese’s hand where it lay on the cotton nightshirt she had pulled on while waiting for Reese. In an automatic response, Reese laced her fingers through Tory’s. “What happens tomorrow after you leave here?”

“I’m flying to North Carolina to meet with my father and then shipping out right away. The rest of my unit will follow in the next week or so.”

“Is he going too?”

Reese shook her head. “Not yet, and maybe not at all. I didn’t get the sense he was happy about that, either. They want him here for strategic planning, apparently.”

“But he would rather be commanding a combat unit.” Tory couldn’t help but keep the bitterness from her voice. Rationally, she knew it wasn’t Reese’s father’s fault that any of this had happened. Reese had made her choice years ago, and for reasons that were inherently good, as good as Reese herself. Honorable, valorous reasons. Sometimes that made it the hardest of all. She could hardly resent her lover for being a courageous and noble woman. “He would rather be going, and if he can’t, you’re a good substitute.”

“I don’t know about that part,” Reese said quietly, recognizing Tory’s anger and not begrudging it. She let go of Tory’s hand and skimmed beneath the cotton to rest on flesh. “No one wants war, but for some people…career Marines like my father…it’s a matter of training your whole life for something that may never happen. So when it does, you want the chance to prove your life has meant something.”

“Do you feel that way?”

“My life is you and Reggie. Right here, every day.”

“But what about before us? When you thought you’d be a career Marine forever. Did you…want to fight?”

Reese shook her head. “No. I never did. I mostly had the opportunity to do what I wanted to do without that. First I enforced the law, then I adjudicated it. I didn’t need war for that.” She laughed thinly. “All you need for that is people.”

“What are you going to be doing over there?”

“Tor,” Reese said gently. She leaned down and kissed the hollow at the base of Tory’s throat. “I’ll probably be sitting around in a tent getting bored to tears most of the time.”

Tory knew that the military police unit Reese commanded would not be sitting quietly anywhere. She spread her fingers through Reese’s hair and guided her face lower, to her breast. “I love you even when you lie to me.”

Reese chuckled and swept her cheek back and forth over Tory’s nipple, which was erect beneath the thin cotton. “That’s a very odd statement.” She pushed up the nightshirt and ducked her head to kiss Tory’s breast. Then she looked up, her eyes serious. “You know I wouldn’t, don’t you? Lie to you? It’s just that knowing isn’t always…”

“I know.” Tory stroked Reese’s cheek. “When you’re sitting around being bored in that tent, or doing…whatever else you need to do, remember that we’re waiting for you, and that we need you.”

“I never forget that. It’s the constant of my life.” Reese kissed the tip of Tory’s chin. “I’ll be careful, just like I am here, every day.” Reese clasped Tory and rolled onto her back, settling Tory against her side with Tory’s cheek on her shoulder. She stroked Tory’s hair and her shoulders and her back. She pulled Tory’s shirt up again so that she could run her fingertips up and down Tory’s spine in a slow caress. “You have to promise not to worry and not to work twenty-four hours a day because I’m not here to nag you.”

“Will you be able to call?” Tory sat up and removed her shirt, then snuggled down again.

“Yes, but probably not regularly. I’ll be able to e-mail, too.”

Tory shifted further on top of Reese, resting her thigh between Reese’s legs. “How long do you think, really?”

Reese sighed. “I’m not sure. Best guess…three to six months.”

“Keep thinking three,” Tory murmured. She skimmed her fingertips over Reese’s face, touching her brows, her cheeks, her lips. “I love you.”

“I love you,” Reese whispered. “Try not to worry, okay?”

“I’ll give it my best.”

“Do you think you can sleep?”

Tory rested her head on Reese’s shoulder and fit her body to Reese’s, circling her waist with one arm. “I don’t know that I want to. I’d rather just lie here with you.” She kissed Reese’s breast. “I can still feel the way we made love the last time. It was perfect, but if you need…”

“No,” Reese said quietly. “I always want you, but right now, this is enough.”

“It’s all right to sleep if you need to. I’ll be here.”

Reese nuzzled Tory’s hair, breathing in her essence, warming everywhere inside. “Every time I go to sleep, I’ll feel you just like this.”

Tory nodded wordlessly, giving her every bit of strength she had. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized how hard it was to truly love. “I wouldn’t change one single thing about you, Reese.”

“Thank you,” Reese whispered. She closed her eyes and emptied her mind of everything except Tory. With love came peace.

Chapter Eleven

Lieutenant Colonel Reese Conlon, USMCR…her duffel bag packed and ready downstairs by the front door…stood by the side of the bed and looked down upon the sleeping woman and child. The sky outside the windows gave no hint of dawn. Tory slept curled on her side, her hair nearly obscuring the elegant lines of her face. Only the corner of her full, wide mouth was visible. Reggie lay with her face pillowed between Tory’s breasts. Long gold lashes lay against creamy cheeks. Her lips, rosebud pink, were pursed in a tiny smile of innocent bliss. No painter had ever captured the image of an angel as perfectly as in that moment.

Absently, Reese turned the plain gold band on her left ring finger, smiling as her daughter made a small cooing sound and nuzzled against Tory’s breast. When Reese had risen after dozing for a few hours to shower and put on her uniform, Reggie had started to fuss, almost as if she too understood that a momentous change was about to befall their lives. That and everything else about the night was unusual enough that Reese had rescued the baby from her crib and brought her to Tory. The fact that Tory had fallen back to sleep was just one more indication of how difficult this was for her. She was clearly exhausted, and Reese felt a surge of anxiety knowing that circumstances were not likely to improve.

As if reading her troubled thoughts, Tory opened her eyes and instantly fixed on Reese’s face. “Is it time?”

“Yes.” Seeing the pain in Tory’s eyes, and knowing that she’d put it there, was enough to break Reese’s resolve. Six months ago, she would have sworn on her life that she would never do anything to hurt the only woman she had ever loved. She’d been wrong, and she wondered if she would ever be able to make up for putting Tory through this.

“Let me put her back to bed,” Tory said quietly, starting to rise.

“Here,” Reese said, extending her arms. “Let me take her.”

“She’ll muss your uniform.”

“I don’t care. Besides, you know she’s got a stomach like mine. Cast-iron. She won’t spit up.”

Tory slid from bed, still naked, and passed their sleeping daughter to Reese. She skimmed her hand down Reese’s chest, fingering the rows of service ribbons, and smiled shakily. “You look so goddamned sexy in this.”

“Good to hear.” Reese’s voice was husky as she gently cradled Reggie against her shoulder, knowing it might be months, possibly longer, before she would be able to hold her this way again. Contemplating missing a day in her daughter’s life was torture, but imagining weeks or months passing in her absence was nearly unbearable. As the agonizing realization of all that she stood to lose struck hard at her heart, she tenderly stroked the baby’s soft hair, straightened her shoulders, and forced a grin. “Wait till you see me in camo.”

Tory turned away, fumbling at the foot of the bed for her robe, the tears in her eyes making it difficult for her to focus. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t cry. She would not allow Reese to leave them with anything other than the sure and certain knowledge that they loved her more than life and would be there when she came home. When she comes home. Please, God. Please.

“Tor?”

The faint note of uncertainty in her lover’s voice solidified Tory’s determination. She blinked once and turned back, her eyes clear and her face composed. “It’s all right, baby.” She brushed her fingers over Reese’s cheek and leaned forward to kiss her softly. “It’s all right.”

The crunch of tires over the seashells lining their driveway reverberated like gunshots in the still room. Despite herself, Tory jerked at the sound. Her eyes met Reese’s.

“That’s Bri,” Reese said unnecessarily.

“I want to come with you to the airport.” Tory’s voice shook.

Worry, not anger, Reese thought. She started toward the bedroom door, Reggie asleep on her shoulder. With her free hand she caught Tory’s. “We already decided, Tor. It’ll be easier for you and the baby if…”

“Nothing is going to make it easier for us.” The quick flash of pain in Reese’s face stopped the next words before they could be spoken. Nothing except you not leaving. “I’m sorry.”

Starting down the stairs, Reese shook her head. “No. Don’t say that.” At the front door, she turned and held out the sleeping child. “I’ll call you as soon as I can. I don’t know when that will be.”

“I understand.”

Bending, Reese kissed Reggie’s forehead, then gently encircled Tory’s waist, drawing her near. She brushed her lips over Tory’s once, then again, lingeringly, as she smoothed her hands up and down Tory’s back. “I love you. Both of you…so much.”

Then Reese stepped back and reached for her duffel.

“Wait!” Tory carried Reggie to the sofa, where she laid her down and nestled a cushion beside her to prevent her from rolling off. Swiftly, she returned to Reese and put both arms around her neck, pressing close. With her hands in Reese’s hair, she found Reese’s mouth, cleaving to the long hard lines of the familiar body. With a soft moan, Tory kissed her, a deep probing kiss that spoke more of promises than passion. When she lifted her mouth away, she searched the blue eyes that held her soul. “I love you. I need you. Reggie needs you. You be safe, and you come home. Do you understand?”

“I will,” Reese said, her voice hoarse and her body trembling. “I promise. I will.”

A moment later, Tory stood in the doorway, the baby in her arms, watching her lover stow her duffel bag in the back of the police cruiser, thinking of the things they hadn’t spoken of. In less than an hour, Reese would be on her way to the Marine base at Camp Lejeune, pending deployment of the 8th Battalion of the II Marine Expeditionary Force. In a matter of days, she would be in Iraq. As an experienced ranking officer with training in the military police force, Tory knew that Reese would be in the heart of the battle zone.

The police cruiser turned left from the driveway onto 6A, heading toward Provincetown and the tiny airport at Race Point. As the taillights faded from sight, a terrible sadness settled in Tory’s chest. The baby stirred in her arms, and Tory gently kissed her forehead.

“It’s going to be all right.”

She wasn’t certain how that could be, when it felt as if her heart were breaking, but she would never stop believing in Reese and the life they had made. Reese would come home, because anything else was unthinkable.

Bri switched off the ignition, popped the trunk with the inside lever, and jumped out of the cruiser almost before the vehicle had come to a complete stop. She was hauling the duffel out of the trunk when Reese reached her.

“Let me give you a hand,” Reese said.

“I got it,” Bri said in short, clipped tones.

Reese covered Bri’s hand where it gripped the canvas strap and squeezed gently. “Hold up a minute.”

Bri stood still, her body stiff, her face averted.

“What’s on your mind?” Reese asked.

“Nothing.”

“Bri.” Reese’s voice was gently chiding.

“We should go. Get you checked in.”

Reese glanced through the glass doors into the main room of the tiny airport. The lights inside seemed unnaturally bright, illuminating the plastic chairs and serviceable all-weather carpet with harsh honesty. The room was empty save for two airport employees and a security officer. “Not much of a line.”

Bri shrugged.

“This is no time for silence between us.” Reese rested her hand on Bri’s shoulder, and as had happened only once before when Bri had been much younger, she was taken off guard when Bri launched herself into her arms. Reese circled Bri’s narrow waist and held her hard against her chest while she stroked the back of her head with her other hand. “Hey. Hey, it’s okay.”

“Everyone is always leaving.”

It must feel that way sometimes, Reese thought. Your mother. Caroline. Me. Bri’s face was turned away so that Reese couldn’t see her, but she didn’t need to to know her blue eyes would be clouded with misery. “Caroline came back. So will I.”

“I know. Sorry,” Bri mumbled.

Reese pulled away just enough to let Bri stand on her own, but she kept her arm around her. “I’m going to miss you something fierce.” She tapped Bri’s chin. “Look after yourself.”

Bri nodded. “I know you’ll be really busy, but maybe sometime…”

Reese patted her chest pocket. “I’ve got a list of important e-mail addresses right here. Yours is on top.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Bri straightened. “So I’ll be talking to you.”

“You will.” Reese bent down and hefted her duffel. “Ready?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Carter heaved herself out of the deck chair where she’d been sitting most of the night. After Rica had left, she couldn’t sleep, so she’d opened another beer and returned to the deck, trying to sort out her thoughts. Allen was playing the odds as far as Rica was concerned…betting that because Rica was the only child and the presumed next in line to head the Pareto family that Rica was actually involved in the business. It was a reasonable assumption, but there was very little hard evidence to substantiate the theory. A few surveillance photos showing known mob affiliates entering Rica’s gallery, making purchases or deliveries, was hardly proof of anything. Rica was on a first-name basis with some pretty heavy hitters, but her primary interaction with them was at family gatherings, precisely because they were friends of the family whom she had known since she was a child. Not damning in itself.

Despite having gotten close to some of Pareto’s highly placed captains, Carter had yet to hear anything suggesting that Rica was giving orders or involved in any of the Pareto enterprises.

“Christ, I’ve been at more important meetings then she seems to have been,” Carter muttered. At some point when she had finally admitted that she just couldn’t face her empty bed and her tangled thoughts, she had gotten up to get a jacket. She’d sipped her beer, watched fingers of clouds flirt with the moon, and replayed the feel of Rica’s mouth against hers.

Despite the cold, she’d dozed on and off, and now the first blush of pink teased along the horizon. She went back inside, changed into shorts and running shoes, and headed toward Herring Cove. She needed to run off the beer and sweat out the heat that Rica’s kiss had stirred in her belly, because she had a feeling it might be a long time before she got that close to the elusive Mafia heiress again.

Rica struggled beneath Enzo’s suffocating weight. His breath was hot on her neck, his hands rough on her skin, his hard lust bruising her flesh. She jerked her face away from his mouth and came awake with a gasp.

Shivering, she threw the covers aside and pulled a robe from a nearby chair. Wrapping it quickly around herself, she opened the French doors to her deck and stepped out into the dawn. The sky flamed purple and orange as the sun rose over the water. She braced her hands on the wooden railing and breathed the crisp salt air, letting it cleanse her. Closing her eyes, she touched her lips and remembered the soft glide of Carter’s mouth.

For just a moment, she regretted not sleeping with Carter the night before. If she had, she would not have met Enzo and been reminded of his unwelcome touch. If she had let Carter complete her seduction, she could have lost herself for a few hours in the comfort of shared desire. It wasn’t something she allowed herself often, and usually she limited the liaisons to women she knew only casually. Somehow Carter felt like more than that already.

As the erratic beat of her heart steadied and the queasiness left her stomach, Rica took in the peaceful vista that stretched from below her home to the ocean. A lone runner jogged along the footpath that snaked through the dunes on the water’s edge. In the distance, a needle-thin red kayak crested the waves, headed toward Race Point. Overhead, a small twin-engine plane climbed into the sky on its journey to Boston.

Alone on her deck, Rica felt an inexplicable connection to those solitary souls as they shared the beauty of the dawn.

Chapter Twelve

Carter stopped in the nearly empty parking lot at Herring Cove to catch her breath and to watch the last of the sunrise. A few RVs and a Jeep Cherokee were the only vehicles in sight. As she bent forward slightly, breathing deeply, inhaling salt and spray and the indefinable taste of the sea, she watched a kayaker paddle to shore. The kayaker climbed out into the surf when the craft was a few feet from shore, stumbling a little before grabbing the edge of the cockpit for balance. Carter saw then that the kayaker was a woman, and it looked as if she was having difficulty getting the craft onto the beach.

Carter started across the sand, and, as she came closer, realized that the moisture on the woman’s face was more than sea spray. She was crying.

She was also very beautiful. Waves of auburn hair fell to her shoulders, surrounding an oval face with delicately arched cheekbones, a fine straight nose, and a sculpted jaw. Despite the early hour and the predictable chill, she wore shorts and a sleeveless T-shirt beneath her PFD. When she stripped off the vest and tossed it into the cockpit, her damp T-shirt clung to her high, full breasts. Her arms and legs were nicely toned and the rest of her figure followed suit. She had some kind of brace on her right ankle. Carter lifted a hand in greeting. “Can I help you with that?”

Tory blinked and brushed at the tears on her cheeks. When she’d seen the taillights of the cruiser disappear into the dark and realized that Reese was really gone, she’d known she wouldn’t sleep. She had bundled up the baby and taken her to Jean and Kate’s. They were used to her showing up at all hours when she had an emergency call and Reese was working, so they had taken Reggie and spared her any questions. Kate had given her a long look, and maybe whatever she had seen in Tory’s eyes had been answer enough. The tears had been very close to the surface even then.

Once out on the water and settled into her rhythm, she had been fine, really. When the plane had lifted off and climbed slowly in a low arc above her head, she had watched, paddle resting across her bow, and imagined Reese looking out the window. “Be safe, baby,” she had whispered.

Even on her way back she’d held on to some of the harmony she always achieved when her mind and body became one with the sea. It wasn’t until she’d scanned the parking lot, unconsciously expecting to see Reese’s cruiser as she had almost every day in the years they had been together, that the vacant spot where Reese should have been waiting blossomed inside her chest to leave her feeling hollow. And she had lost her battle with the tears.

“I’m sorry,” Carter said gently and started to back away when she got no answer. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“No,” Tory said hoarsely, “that’s all right.” The churning waves dragged at her kayak as she awkwardly pulled it higher onto the sand. “You’re not.”

Carter reached for the strap on the nose of the kayak. “It’s pretty cold out here. Aren’t you freezing?”

“I’m still warm from paddling. I’ve got a jacket in the car.” Tory held out her hand. “Tory King.”

“Carter Wayne. Hello.” Carter took note of the gold wedding band, still wondering about the tears. Since she couldn’t think of any way of asking that wouldn’t be awkward and embarrassing, she kept silent as they carried the kayak the rest of the way up the beach and lifted it onto the roof rack of the Jeep Cherokee she had passed in the parking lot.

“Thanks. I’ve got it from here,” Tory said as she looped the tie-down straps through the front and rear handles and secured them to the bumpers.

“Okay. Nice meeting…” Carter stopped when a police cruiser slammed to a stop behind the Jeep and a young woman in uniform jumped out. Carter wasn’t sure why, but the look on the officer’s face was decidedly mistrustful.

“Everything all right, Tory?” Bri said.

“Yes. Bri, this is Carter Wayne. Carter, Officer Bri Parker.”

Parker. The sheriff’s daughter? Carter extended her hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m an attorney here in town. Just getting moved in.”

“Hi,” Bri said, her attention on Tory. “Reese said you’d probably be here. She said she’d call from the base when she gets in if she can.”

Tory smiled. “Thanks.” She glanced at Carter. “My partner. Her Marine reserve unit was just called up.”

And there goes half my backup. Carter looked from Tory to Bri, who still regarded her suspiciously. “That’s tough.”

“Well, it was sudden,” Tory agreed. “We’re just getting adjusted.” She touched Bri’s cheek gently for a second. “I’ve got to get home and change. I’ll be at the clinic later. Reggie is at Kate’s.” She opened the car door and smiled at Carter. “It was nice meeting you. Welcome to Provincetown.”

“You too.” Carter met Bri’s steady stare and nodded. “Officer.”

Bri touched her cap and climbed back into her cruiser. Through the open window she said, “Have a nice day.”

Carter kept her smile in check as the cruiser backed out and sped away. Parker wasn’t a rookie, but not far from it. And with Reese Conlon out of the picture, she’d have big shoes to fill. Great. Nelson Parker is a desk jockey and Parker the Younger is hardly seasoned. And she looks like she has a temper. Terrific.

Carter clenched her jaw, becoming increasingly uneasy about the entire assignment. It just didn’t feel right. The target didn’t feel right. Well, actually, she did. Too right, and that was part of the problem. Because Rica wasn’t the first woman Carter had needed to get close to while undercover, but she was the first that it bothered her to lie to. And now her primary contact had just taken off for parts unknown. She took a deep breath and tried to dispel the feeling that something was off. She glanced up at the million-dollar houses sitting on the overlook facing the bay. Rica lived up there somewhere. She wasn’t certain which house was hers from this vantage point, but she caught a glimpse of movement out on one of the decks. She squinted in the sunlight but was barely able to make out the figure of a woman. Her heart kicked in her chest and her stomach tensed as she felt the heat of Rica’s mouth again.

“Get a grip, Carter. Jesus.” With a shake of her head, Carter looked away from the shadowy figure and started to run.

“Hello?” A sleepy voice said when the phone was answered.

Rica smiled. “Hi, Ang. What are you doing?”

“It’s six thirty in the morning, Rica. What do you think I’m doing? I’m sleeping.”

“Alone?”

“At the moment, yes. Three hours ago, I wasn’t sleeping. And I wasn’t alone.”

“Was he worth losing sleep over?”

A sound that was half purr, half moan came through the line. “Oh, yeah. Big broad shoulders, big strong thighs, big thick…”

“I get it,” Rica said, laughing. “Was this a regular or just a one-time side dish?”

“I don’t know. He’s got the potential to be a steady menu item.” Another lusty sigh, and then Angie said, sounding much more alert, “So what are you doing?”

“Remember those super high-powered binoculars you got me for bird watching when you knew I was moving here?”

“The ones you informed me you would never use because you never go bird watching?”

“Those would be the ones.”

“I remember.”

“Well, I’m using them to spy on people instead.”

“Really?” Angie said with interest. “Who?”

Rica leaned her elbows on the railing and held the powerful Zeiss binoculars to her eyes with one hand and the phone to her ear with the other.

“At the moment, I’m watching a very sexy woman run along the beach. Great shoulders, excellent thighs, and a nice tight…”

Angie’s laughter interrupted her.

“Well, she’s worth whatever you paid for these,” Rica murmured.

“Do you know this woman or are you just turning into some kind of peeping Thomasina?”

“I don’t actually know her.” Rica watched Carter disappear into the scrub at the far end of the parking lot where the bike trail started its course through the dunes. “But I can tell you that she’s a great kisser.”

“Whoa. Back up. You don’t know her, but you’ve kissed her?”

“I met her at my father’s house a few weeks ago, and I had…almost had…dinner with her last night.”

“Rica, you’re not making any sense. How can you almost have dinner? And since when do you date family friends?”

“We’re not dating,” Rica said, her attention still focused on the dune trail where she expected to see Carter reemerge. “I told you, we barely know each other.”

“But you’re watching her at six thirty in the morning through binoculars. What aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing. There’s nothing to tell.”

Was there? When Rica had first glimpsed the runner, she’d gotten the prickly sensation that she recognized the figure. Just out of curiosity, she’d found the binoculars she’d tossed into a kitchen drawer and taken a closer look. When she had seen it was Carter, she couldn’t look away. The little interlude on the beach with the very attractive kayaker still left her mildly…perturbed. She’d followed Carter on her trek down the beach, and then back up in the company of the woman carrying the kayak. And then the little conversation by the Jeep. Carter had leaned against the vehicle, all tight-bodied and windblown, looking spectacularly sexy.

Since Rica couldn’t tell anything from the body language and she couldn’t read lips, she was left to imagine the conversation. It was perfectly clear that Carter was being gallant, and what woman wouldn’t enjoy that kind of attention from someone as good-looking and charming as Carter? If they were anywhere else in the world, Rica might not have thought anything of it, but this was Provincetown and two women lingering together on a beach at sunrise most often spelled mutual attraction.

And what of it? She’d already made it very clear to Carter that she wasn’t interested in pursuing anything of a personal nature with her. Well, not anything beyond a pleasant interlude. Or two. Still, the image of the other woman smiling at Carter kept intruding on her thoughts.

“Rica?”

“Hmm? Sorry, what?”

“I said it sounds like this one has gotten under your skin.”

“Not at all,” Rica said with certainty.

“So what’s the story with the kiss?”

Rica sighed. “Oh, it was just one of those things. She was just testing the waters.”

“And did you invite her in for a dip?”

“No,” Rica said with a laugh. “I informed her that I might be interested in something casual. And the operative word was might.”

“How long has it been since you’ve had a serious relationship?”

Rica frowned. Angie might be her best friend, but Rica still didn’t like to be interrogated about her personal life. It had been hard enough as a teenager trying to have friends when they learned exactly what it was her father did for a living. She had been embarrassed by her friends’ curiosity and the need to offer explanations. As an adult, intimate relationships were even more problematic, and it was just so much simpler to avoid them. But she wasn’t thinking about a relationship. She was thinking about Carter in bed. “More to the point, how long has it been since I’ve had sex.”

“I take it she’s at least a good candidate in that department?”

“If the kiss is any indication of the rest of her skills, most definitely.”

“So? Why don’t you do something about it?”

“I don’t know,” Rica mused. “If I hadn’t first seen her at the house, maybe.”

“Well, you’re not in Boston now, so why don’t you just think of this as a little side trip. You can keep it separate from everything else.”

“That’s a nice fantasy, but you know it’s impossible.”

“I can’t remember the last time you mentioned a woman who even interested you. This one sounds like it’s more than that. Take a chance.”

Rica shook her head ruefully. Taking chances was exactly what she couldn’t afford to do. “Are you coming out to visit soon?”

“You’re changing the subject.”

“You noticed.”

Angie laughed. “As soon as I can. Call me with updates. I want to hear everything.”

“I’ll call you, but there won’t be any updates.”

When Rica hung up, she scanned the dunes with the binoculars again, but she saw no sign of Carter. Take a chance. When was the last time she’d done that? When was the last time she’d wanted to?

On impulse, she hurried inside.

Carter swiped at the sweat on her brow with her bare forearm and stared at the woman walking toward her on the side of the road. She slowed and tried not to appear as if she were short of breath.

“Is this just a lucky coincidence?” Carter asked.

Smiling, Rica shook her head. “Actually, no. I happened to notice you when I was standing out on my deck.”

Carter turned in a circle, frowning. “Where?”

Rica gestured to the hill behind them. “There.”

Carter whistled, even though she had known that’s where Rica lived. “Nice view.”

“At times.”

Grinning, Carter said, “I hope this morning was one of them.”

Rica did another of those slow sexy scans, starting at the top of Carter’s head, moving down over her sweat-stained T-shirt to the expanse of long, lean bare legs. “It had its memorable moments.”

“So are you heading to the beach?”

“No. I realized that I was a terrible guest last evening and I thought I’d make up for it by offering you coffee and something to eat this morning.”

Carter tried to ignore the jolt of anticipation that shot straight to her groin. This was the opportunity she’d been waiting for, and she couldn’t let her hormones cloud her judgment. Nevertheless, she indicated her T-shirt and shorts. “I’m not fit for company right now. Maybe…”

“You can shower while I make coffee. I’ve got old sweats that will fit you.”

Although the invitation might be a prelude to seduction, and a welcome one, Carter had the feeling that wasn’t what Rica was doing. Trying to tread carefully and not overplay her hand, she lifted her shoulder. “You sure?”

“Yes,” Rica said contemplatively, “I am.”

Carter squelched the sudden image she had of Rica joining her in the shower. She got her mind under control, but her body was way ahead of her. She’d have to make the shower a cold one.

“Okay. Great. Let’s go.”

Chapter Thirteen

“The bathroom is right down the hall.” Rica pointed to the guest bathroom. “I’ll start the coffee.”

“Thanks,” Carter said.

Still trying to figure out what was behind Rica’s invitation and, more importantly, exactly how she had come to be undressing in Rica’s bathroom, Carter shed her T-shirt and shorts and discarded them in a pile on the floor by the shower. Her skin was still tingling from Rica’s earlier appraisal when she reached in and turned on the water. She kept it just this side of warm.

When she lathered her hair, she caught a whiff of the scent she’d smelled the night before when she had kissed Rica. The memory of the taste of Rica’s lips sent tremors through her, and she struggled not to imagine Rica’s fingers skimming over her body in swirls of soap and lust. She didn’t do a very good job of banishing the fantasies.

The only thing the shower accomplished was sluicing off the sweat, because she was still just as hot as she had been when she stepped in. Her adrenaline was pumping as it always did when she was in the midst of an undercover case, and this time, she had the added boost of sexual excitement. She felt like a rocket ready to launch.

“Christ, you’d think you were the rookie. The Parker kid could probably do a better job of it.” Disgusted, Carter slicked her hair back with both hands and slid the glass shower door open. As she stepped out, the bathroom door opened and Rica slipped in.

Rica stared into Carter’s eyes, then deliberately dropped her gaze. Carter felt her nipples tighten. Even when her clit throbbed, Carter didn’t move a muscle. Wordlessly, Rica carefully placed a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt on the counter, turned, and walked out.

Sucking in a shaky breath, Carter leaned back against the shower door and closed her eyes. She’d just been naked and two feet away from a woman who had looked at her more than once with open appreciation. Today Rica’s gaze had held an invitation. Her assignment was to gain the woman’s trust, by any means possible, and she’d stood there and done nothing. What the hell was wrong with her?

Carter pulled on baggy sweatpants and a Boston Bruins T-shirt, slid on her running shoes, and made her way into the kitchen. Rica stood at the counter with her back to the room, assembling breakfast.

“I’m sorry. I knocked,” Rica said without turning.

“No problem,” Carter replied. I wish you’d done more than look. And since when do I wait for a woman to make the first move?

“I thought we’d eat outside,” Rica said, lifting the tray.

“Here, let me take that.” Carter reached for the tray and their hands brushed. She swore she could see sparks jump into the air.

Rica backed up a step and relinquished the tray. “Thanks.”

Carter followed Rica onto the deck and set the food in the middle of the round, beveled-glass table. As she settled into one of the wrought-iron chairs, she indicated the Bruins logo on the shirt. “Are you a fan?”

Rica shook her head as she poured coffee. “No. But my father is. You?”

“I have six brothers. Of course I’m a fan.”

“Six?” Rica stared. “My God.”

Carter smiled. Although a basic tenet of undercover work was to tell the truth whenever possible, because veracity always sounded more believable than lies and you were less likely to get tripped up down the road, she didn’t usually extend that rule to disclosing information about her personal life. But then, none of the rules seemed to apply to her and Rica. “My father kept trying for girls.”

“So you’re the youngest?”

Carter shook her head. “Next to the youngest. My parents decided after my baby brother Charles was born that I was a fluke. They gave up on making me a sister.”

“What was it like? Growing up with all those brothers?”

“I learned survival skills at an early age.”

Rica laughed.

“It was fine,” Carter said, sipping the coffee. “God, this is good. They were tough, but fair. If I didn’t cry when I got hurt and didn’t tattle to my parents about anything ever, they let me play whatever they were playing.”

“Did you ever win?” Rica asked with an oddly thoughtful expression on her face.

“Once in a while. I got to be very fast. And sneaky.”

“Really?” Rica gazed at Carter over the top of her coffee mug, which she cradled between her long, slim fingers. “Funny, you don’t strike me as the nefarious sort.”

Carter’s stomach clenched. For the first time that she could remember, she hated her job. She felt a flush rise to her face and was helpless to stop it. “I try not to be when it really matters.”

“Good.” Rica indicated the tray of bagels and spreads. “You should eat something. You must be hungry after that run. Is that your normal routine?”

“Not really,” Carter said as she broke a bagel in half. She looked up to find Rica’s intent gaze on her. “I was trying to run you out of my system.”

Rica’s lips parted in surprise and her eyes widened slightly. A smile played across her mouth. “Did you learn that line from one of your brothers?”

“No.” Carter took a bite of the bagel, chewed, and swallowed. “They got it from me.”

Laughing, Rica tossed her head back, and sunlight shimmered over her hair in ebony waves. “You must be an excellent attorney.”

“When I need to be.” Carter decided that she liked Rica’s laughter even more than her beautiful smile. Knowing she should push the flirtation, but inexplicably backing away from it, she changed the subject. “There’s just you, isn’t there? I mean, no brothers or sisters?”

“Just me,” Rica said. “My father didn’t remarry right away, and when he did, there were no further children.”

“I used to be jealous of my friends with no siblings.”

“And I used to envy my friends with big families.”

Carter was rewarded with another one of Rica’s rare smiles. “How’s business?”

Rica raised an eyebrow.

“The gallery,” Carter said with exaggerated emphasis. “I’m assuming our deal is still on.”

“What deal?”

“Not to discuss other business when we’re together.”

“Business is good,” Rica conceded. “I built a strong client list in New York, and many of the artists are happy to expand to another market. I’m going to have an open house as soon as I get a little more organized. Probably early June. You should come. Wine and cheese, some of the local artists will be there.”

“I will. Thanks.” Carter reached for the coffee carafe and refilled her own cup and Rica’s. “But that’s almost a month away. I’m going to see you before then, aren’t I?”

“When are you going back to the mainland?”

Carter did a silent mental assessment, trying to sort out how quickly she should try to move things ahead. Her body said one thing and her professional judgment another. She went with the surge of heat rippling through her nervous system. “I’m back and forth pretty much all the time. That’s the nice thing about working for yourself. I set my own schedule.”

Rica reached across the table and took Carter’s hand. “Well, I hope you intend to make room for me.”

The morning grew very still. Even the seagulls quieted. Carter stared at Rica’s fingers closed loosely over hers. It was the first time she’d ever truly heard her own heartbeat. She should have had a cool response, but her throat was dry and whatever came out was going to be anything but cool. She looked into Rica’s eyes. She had never realized that black could come in so many shades, and then she realized that Rica’s irises were comprised of subtly shifting shades of dark purples and grays, and not black at all. She wondered how many other things she’d been wrong about. “Does this fall under the category of casual and inconsequential occurrences?”

“It falls under I’m very attracted to you and I’m hoping that I’ll get to see you in my bathroom without clothes again,” Rica said.

Carter fought to keep her expression nonchalant. “It hasn’t escaped me that you didn’t answer the question. Casual and inconsequential?”

Rica smiled. “That didn’t matter to you last night when you kissed me.”

“That kiss kept me awake all night.”

“Me too.” Rica skimmed her thumb over the top of Carter’s hand. “You seem to have an unforgettable mouth.”

Carter found herself in the inexplicable position of sitting outdoors under a clear blue sky and feeling uncomfortably short of breath. She couldn’t get enough air. Her chest squeezed down until her head was swimming. She was about to drown in the invitation in Rica’s voice. Very carefully, she pushed to her feet, afraid she might stumble and pitch backward right over the railing.

“Thanks for breakfast.” Carter gripped the railing to steady herself. “If I stay another minute, you’re going to have to take me to bed and put me out of my misery.”

Rica leaned back in her chair, her breasts rising and falling rapidly. “Would that be so bad?”

“Ask me again when my brain cells are functioning.” Carter leaned down and braced her arms on either side of Rica, curling her fingers over the cool iron of the armrests. She kissed her, because she had to, or explode. She kissed her as she had the night before, without touching her with anything but her mouth, exploring the soft smooth surface of her lips with the tip of her tongue, slowly probing inside, deeper this time, losing herself in the inner heat. She moaned and broke the kiss when Rica slid a hand beneath her T-shirt and trailed her fingers over Carter’s abdomen.

“The next time,” Rica said, leaning her head back against the chair and letting her hands fall palms up onto her thighs, “a kiss, even a great kiss, is not going to be enough. Not when you take me halfway there just from the feel of you inside my mouth.”

Carter closed her eyes for a second, fighting to keep her legs under her. “Jesus.”

“You’re going to have to make up your mind, Carter,” Rica said. “This time yesterday morning you wanted me in bed. Now you don’t.”

“Rica,” Carter said with a shake of her head, “it’s not…”

“I don’t need to know the reasons. And I’m not asking for them.” Rica stood and stepped so close that her breasts pressed lightly against Carter’s chest. She skimmed her mouth along the rim of Carter’s ear. “But if you’re going to play with me, don’t quit until we finish the game.”

Carter desperately wanted to hold her. She wanted to kiss her again. She wanted to lie down next to her and touch every inch of her body. She wanted to make her laugh and moan and cry out with pleasure. She wanted her so badly she ached in her bones. And she was afraid to touch her when a lie stood between them, and she didn’t know what the hell to do about it. “I’m not playing.”

Rica touched a finger to Carter’s lips. “Of course you are.”

Then Rica turned and disappeared inside the house, leaving Carter, stunned and so aroused she could barely move, to wander down the outside stairs to the street and make her way home. She needed the walk to figure out why she couldn’t do what she’d been sent there to do, and she knew with certainty that a couple of miles was not going to be enough.

Tory walked down the narrow path beside the clinic and let herself in the back door. She didn’t want to see Randy, because she knew the look of sympathy in his eyes would only make her sadness deepen. What she needed was to settle into routine, to focus on her patients and their problems to the exclusion of her own. In the years after she and KT had parted, she’d sought forgetfulness, if not solace, in her work. Eventually she had achieved a modicum of peace. She didn’t expect that now, but she hoped that she would at least be able to keep the pain at bay.